R3PSH 

BIB 

WKm 

"■■■"■:■/ : ■■'■ • 
- . ■'■■:■ , : - . HI 

ill^HIH 

M M WalBH aBMMffl 








■1 



HISTORIC ODDITIES 



STRANGE EVENTS 



B$ tbe same Hutbor- 



ARMINELL: A SOCIAL ROMANCE, 3 Vols. Cr. 8vo. 
(On Nov. i). 

OLD COUNTRY LIFE.— With Numerous Illustrations, Initial 
Letters, &c. Cr. 8vo. {In October). 

YORKSHIRE ODDITIES.- New and Cheaper Edition (In 
Preparation). 

STRANGE SURVIVALS,— (In Preparation). 

HISTORIC ODDITIES.— Second Series (7>z Preparation). 



METHUEN & CO. 



Historic Oddities 



STRANGE EVENTS 



j 



BY 



S; BARING 'GOULD, M.A. 

AUTHOR 01' "MEHALAH," " JOHN HERRING," ETC. 



FIRST SERIES 



LONDON 

METHUEN & CO. 
18 BURY STREET, W.C 

1889 



3 ^ 



' 



CONTENTS. 



£-? 



Preface, 

The Disappearance of Bathurst, 
The Duchess of Kingston, 

General Mallet, 

Schweinichen's Memoirs,... 
The Locksmith Gamain, ... 
Abram the Usurer, 

N , Sophie Apitzsch, 

Peter Nielsen, 



The Wonder-working Prince Hohenlohe, 
The Snail Telegraph, 
The Countess Goerlitz, ... 

-fc TTwax and Honey-Moon, 

The Electress' Plot, 

Suess Oppenheim, 

Ignatius Fessler, 



PACE 

vii 

I 

26 

51 
67 

83 
103 
121 
136 
164 

185 

199 

234 
257 
271 
294 



PREFACE. 



A reader of history in its various epochs in 
different countries, comes upon eccentric in- 
dividuals and extraordinary events, lightly passed 
over, may be, as not materially affecting the 
continuity of history, as not producing any 
seriously disturbing effect on its course. Such 
persons, such events have always awakened 
interest in myself, and when I have come on 
them, it has been my pleasure to obtain such 
details concerning them as were available, and 
which would be out of place in a general history 
as encumbering it with matter that is unimport- 
ant, or of insufficient importance to occupy 
much space. Two of the narratives contained 
in this work have appeared already in the 
" Cornhill Magazine," but I have considerably 



viii PREFACE. 

enlarged them by the addition of fresh material; 
some of the others came out in the " Gentleman's 
Magazine," and one in " Belgravia." With only 
two of them — "Peter Nielsen" and "A Wax 
and Honey- Moon " — are the authorities some- 
what gone beyond and the facts slightly dressed 
to assume the shape of stories. 

S. Baring Gould. 



Lew Trenchard, N. Devon, 
July, 1889. 



HISTORIC ODDITIES. 



Zhe Disappearance of :Batburst 

The mystery of the disappearance of Benjamin 
Bathurst on November 25, 1809, is one which can 
never with certainty be cleared up. At the time 
public opinion in England was convinced that he had 
been secretly murdered by order of Napoleon, and 
the "Times" in a leader on January 23, 1810, so 
decisively asserted this, that the " Moniteur " of 
January 29 ensuing, in sharp and indignant terms 
repudiated the charge, Nevertheless, not in England 
only, but in Germany, was the impression so strong 
that Napoleon had ordered the murder, if murder had 
been committed, that the Emperor saw fit, in the 
spring of the same year, solemnly to assure the wife 
of the vanished man, on his word of honour, that he 
knew nothing about the disappearance of her hus- 
band. Thirty years later Varnhagen von Ense, a 
well-known German author, reproduced the story and 
reiterated the accusation against Napoleon, or at all 
events against the French. Later still, the " Spec- 
tator," in an article in 1862, gave a brief sketch of the 



2 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

disappearance of Bathurst, and again repeated the 
charge against French police agents or soldiers of 
having made away with the Englishman. At that 
time a skeleton was said to have been discovered in 
the citadel of Magdeburg with the hands bound, in 
an upright position, and the writer of the article 
sought to identify the skeleton with the lost man. 1 

We shall see whether other discoveries do not. 
upset this identification, and afford us another solu- 
tion of the problem — What became of Benjamin 
Bathurst ? 

Benjamin Bathurst was the third son of Dr. Henry 
Bathurst, Bishop of Norwich, Canon of Christchurch, 
and the Prebendary of Durham, by Grace, daughter 
of Charles Coote, Dean of Kilfenora, and sister of 
Lord Castlecoote. His eldest brother, Herry, was 
Archdeacon of Norwich ; his next, Sir James, K.C.B., 
was in the army and was aide-de-camp to Lord 
Wellington in the Peninsula. 

Benjamin, the third son of the bishop, was born 
March 14, 1784, 2 and had been secretary of the 
Legation at Leghorn. In May, 1805, he married 
Phillida, daughter of Sir John Call, Bart, of White- 
ford, in Cornwall, and sister of Sir William Pratt Call, 
the second baronet. Benjamin is a Christian name 
that occurs repeatedly in the Bathurst family after 

1 The discovery of a skeleton as described was denied after- 
wards by the Magdeburg papers. It was a newspaper sensa- 
tional paragraph, and unfounded. 

2 Register of Baptisms, Christchurch, Oxford, 1784, March 
14, Benjamin, s. of Henry Bathurst, Canon, and Grace his wife, 
born, and bap. April 19. 



THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 3 

the founder of it, Sir Benjamin, Governor of the East 
India Company and of the Royal African Company. 
He died in 1703. The grandfather of the subject of 
our memoir was a Benjamin, brother of Allen, who 
was created Baron in 171 1, and Earl in 1772. 

Benjamin had three children : a son who died, 
some years after his father's disappearance, in conse- 
quence of a fall from a horse at a race in Rome ; 
a daughter, who was drowned in the Tiber ; and 
another who married the Earl of Castlestuart in 1830, 
and after his death married Signor Pistocchi. 

In 1809, early in the year, Benjamin was sent to 
Vienna by his kinsman, Earl Bathurst, who was in 
the ministry of Lord Castlereagh, and, in October, 
Secretary of State for the Foreign Department. He 
was sent on a secret embassy from the English 
Government to the Court of the Emperor Francis. 
The time was one of great and critical importance to 
Austria. Since the Peace of Pressburg she had been 
quiet ; the Cabinet of Vienna had adhered with 
cautious prudence to a system of neutrality, but she 
only waited her time, and in 1808 the government 
issued a decree by which a militia, raised by a con- 
scription, under the name of the " Landwehr," was 
instituted, and this speedily reached the number of 
300,000 men. Napoleon, who was harassed by the 
insurrection in the Peninsula, demanded angrily an 
explanation, which was evaded. To overawe Austria, 
he met the Emperor Alexander of Russia at Erfurth, 
and the latter when sounded by Austria refused to 
have any part in the confederation against Napoleon. 
England, in the meantime, was urging Austria to 



4 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

cast down the gauntlet. In pledge of amity, the 
port of Trieste was thrown open to the English and 
Spanish flags. In December, a declaration of the 
King of England openly alluded to the hostile pre- 
parations of Austria, but the Cabinet at Vienna were 
as yet undecided as to the course they would finally 
adopt. The extreme peril which the monarchy had 
undergone already in the wars with Napoleon made 
them hesitate. England was about to send fifty 
thousand men to the Peninsula, and desired the diver- 
sion of a war in the heart of Germany. Prussia 
resolved to remain neutral. Napoleon rapidly re- 
turned from Spain, and orders were despatched to 
Davoust to concentrate his immense corps at Bam- 
berg ; Massena was to repair to Strasburg, and press 
on to Ulm ; Oudenot to move on Augsburg, and 
Bernadotte, at the head of the Saxons, was to menace 
Bohemia. It was at this juncture that Benjamin 
Bathurst hurried as Ambassador Extraordinary to 
Vienna, to assure the Cabinet there of the intentions 
of England to send a powerful contingent into Spain, 
and to do all in his power to urge Austria to declare 
war. Encouraged by England, the Cabinet of Vienna 
took the initiative, and on April 8 the Austrian troops 
crossed the frontier at once on the Inn, in Bohemia, 
in Tyrol, and in Italy. 

The irritation and exasperation of Napoleon were 
great ; and Bathurst, who remained with the Court, 
laboured under the impression that the Emperor of 
the French bore him especial enmity, on account of 
his exertions to provoke the Austrian Ministry to 
declaration of war. Whether this opinion of his were 



THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 5 

well founded, or whether he had been warned that 
Napoleon would take the opportunity, if given him, 
of revenging himself, we do not know; but what is 
certain is, that Bathurst was prepossessed with the con- 
viction that Napoleon regarded him with implacable 
hostility and would leave no stone unturned to com- 
pass his destruction. 

On July 6 came the battle of Wagram, then the 
humiliating armistice of Znaim, which was agreed to 
by the Emperor Francis at Komorn in spite of the 
urgency of Metternich and Lord Walpole, who sought 
to persuade him to reject' the proposals. This armi- 
stice was the preliminary to a peace which was con- 
cluded at Schonbrun in October. With this, Bathurst's 
office at Vienna came to an end, and he set out on 
his way home. Now it was that he repeatedly spoke 
of the danger that menaced him, and of his fears lest 
Napoleon should arrest him on his journey to England. 
He hesitated for some time which road to take, and 
concluding that if he went by Trieste and Malta he 
might run the worst risks, he resolved to make his 
way to London by Berlin and the north of Germany. 
He took with him his private secretary and a valet ; 
and, to evade observation, assumed the name of 
Koch, and pretended that he was a travelling mer- 
chant. His secretary was instructed to act as courier, 
and he passed under the name of Fisher. Benjamin 
Bathurst carried pistols about his person, and there 
were firearms in the back of the carriage. 

On November 25, 1809, about midday, he arrived 
at Perleberg, with post-horses, on the route from 
Berlin to Hamburg, halted at the post-house for 



6 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

refreshments, and ordered fresh horses to be harnessed 
to the carnage for the journey to Lenzen, which was 
the next station. 

Bathurst had come along the highway from Berlin 
to Schwerin, in Brandenburg, as far as the little town 
of Perleberg, which lies on the Stepnitz, that flows 
after a few miles into the Elbe at Wittenberge. He 
might have gone on to Ludwigslust, and thence to 
Hamburg, but this was a considerable detour, and he 
was anxious to be home. He had now before him a 
road that led along the Elbe close to the frontier of 
Saxony. The Elbe was about four miles distant. 
At Magdeburg were French troops. If he were in 
danger anywhere, it would be during the next few 
hours — that is, till he reached Domitz. About a 
hundred paces from the post-house was an inn, the 
White Swan, the host of which was named Leger. 
By the side of the inn was the Parchimer gate of the 
town, furnished with a tower, and the road to Ham- 
burg led through this gate, outside of which was a 
sort of suburb consisting of poor cottagers' and arti- 
sans' houses. 

Benjamin Bathurst went to the Swan and ordered 
an early dinner ; the horses were not to be put in till 
he had dined. He wore a pair of grey trousers, a 
grey frogged short coat, and over it a handsome sable 
greatcoat lined with violet velvet. On his head was 
a fur cap to match. In his scarf was a diamond pin 
of some value. 

As soon as he had finished his meal, Bathurst in- 
quired who was in command of the soldiers quartered 
in the town, and where he lodged. He was told that 



THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 7 

a squadron of the Brandenburg cuirassiers was there 
under Captain Klitzing, who was residing in a house 
behind the Town Hall. Mr. Bathurst then crossed 
the market place and called on the officer, who was 
at the time indisposed with a swollen neck. To Cap- 
tain Klitzing he said that he was a traveller on his 
way to Hamburg, that he had strong and well- 
grounded suspicions that his person was endangered, 
and he requested that he might be given a guard in 
the inn, where he was staying. A lady who was pre- 
sent noticed that he seemed profoundly agitated, that 
he trembled as though ague-stricken, and was unable 
to raise a cup of tea that was offered him to his lips 
without spilling it. 

The captain laughed at his fears, but consented to 
let him have a couple of soldiers, and gave the requisite 
orders for their despatch ; then Mr. Bathurst rose, re- 
sumed his sable overcoat, and, to account for his ner- 
vous difficulty in getting into his furs again, explained 
that he was much shaken by something that had 
alarmed him. 

Not long after the arrival of Mr. Bathurst at the 
Swan, two Jewish merchants arrived from Lenzen 
with post-horses, and left before nightfall. 

On Mr. Bathurst's return to the inn, he counter- 
manded the horses ; he said he would not start till 
night. He considered that it would be safer for him 
to spin along the dangerous portion of the route by 
night when Napoleon's spies would be less likely to 
be on the alert. He remained in the inn writing and 
burning papers. At seven o'clock he dismissed the 
soldiers on guard, and ordered the horses to be ready 



8 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

by nine. He stood outside the inn watching his port- 
manteau, which had been taken within, being replaced 
on the carriage, stepped round to the heads of the 
horses — and was never seen again. 

It must be remembered that this was at the end of 
November. Darkness had closed in before 5 P.M., as 
the sun set at four. An oil lantern hung across the 
street, emitting a feeble light ; the ostler had a horn 
lantern, wherewith he and the postillion adjusted the 
harness of the horses. The landlord was in the door- 
way talking to the secretary, who, as courier, was 
paying the account. No one particularly observed 
the movements of Mr. Bathurst at the moment. He 
had gone to the horses' heads, where the ostler's 
lantern had fallen on him. The horses were in, the- 
postillion ready, the valet stood by the carriage door, 
the landlord had his cap in hand ready to wish 
the gentleman a "lucky journey;" the secretary was 
impatient, as the wind was cold. They waited ; they 
sent up to the room which Mr. Bathurst had engaged ; 
they called. All in vain. Suddenly, inexplicably, 
without a word, a cry, an alarm of any sort, he was 
gone — spirited away, and what really became of him 
will never be known with certainty. 

Whilst the whole house was in amazement and 
perplexity the Jewish merchants ordered their carriage 
to be got ready, and departed. 

Some little time elapsed before it was realised that 
the case was serious. Then it occurred to the secre- 
tary that Mr. Bathurst might have gone again to the 
captain in command to solicit guards to attend his 
carriage. He at once sent to the captain, but Mr. 



THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 9 

Bathurst was not with him. The moment, however, that 
Klitzing heard that the traveller had disappeared, he 
remembered the alarm expressed by the gentleman, 
and acted with great promptitude. He sent soldiers 
to seize the carriage and all the effects of the missing 
man. He went, in spite of his swollen neck, immedi- 
ately to the Swan, ordered a chaise, and required the 
secretary to enter it ; he placed a cuirassier and the 
valet on the box, and, stepping into the carriage, 
ordered it to be driven to the Golden Crown, an inn 
at the further end of the town, where he installed the 
companions of Bathurst, and placed a soldier in guard 
over them. A guard was also placed over the Swan, 
and next morning every possible search was made 
for the lost man. The river was dragged, outhouses, 
woods, marshes, ditches were examined, but not a 
trace of him could be found. That day was Sunday. 
Klitzing remained at Perleberg only till noon, to wait 
some discovery, and then, without delay, hurried 
to Kyritz, where was his commandant, Colonel Bis- 
mark, to lay the case before him, and solicit leave to 
hasten direct to Berlin, there to receive further in- 
structions what was to be done. 

He was back on Monday with full authority to in- 
vestigate the matter. 

Before he left he had gone over the effects of Mr. 
Bathurst, and had learned that the fur coat belong- 
ing to him was missing ; he communicated this fact 
to the civil magistrate of the district, and whilst he 
was away search was instituted for this. It was the 
sable coat lined with violet velvet already mentioned, 
and this, along with another belonging to the secre- 



io HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

tary, Fisher was under the impression had been left 
in the post-house. 

The amazing part of the matter is that the city 
authorities — and, indeed, on his return, Captain Klit- 
z ing — for awhile confined themselves to a searchfor the 
fur coat, and valuable time was lost by this means. 
Moreover, thecityauthorities, the police,and themilitary 
were all independent, and all jealous of each other. 
The militarycommander,Klitzing,and the burgomaster 
were in open quarrel, and sent up to headquarters 
charges against each other for interference in the 
matter beyond their rights. The head of the police 
was inert, a man afterwards dismissed for allowing 
defalcation in the monies entrusted to him. There 
was no system in the investigation, and the proper 
clues were not followed. 

On December 16th, two poor women went out of 
Perleberg to a little fir wood in the direction of Quit- 
zow, to pick up broken sticks for fuel. There theyfound, 
a few paces from a path leading through the wood, 
spread out on the grass, a pair of trousers turned inside 
out. On turning them back they observed that they 
were stained on the outside, as if the man who had 
worn them had lain on the earth. In the pocket was a 
paper with writing on it ; this, as well as the trousers, 
was sodden with water. Two bullet holes were in 
the trousers, but no traces of blood about them, 
which could hardly have been the case had the bullets 
struck a man wearing the trousers. The women took 
what they had found to the burgomaster. The 
trousers were certainly those of the missing man. 
The paper in the pocket was a half-finished letter 



THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. n 

from Mr. Bathurst to his wife, scratched in pencil, 
stating that he was afraid he would never reach 
England, and that his ruin would be the work of 
Count d'Entraigues, and he requested her not to 
marry again in the event of his not returning. 

The English Government offered £1,000 reward, 
and his family another £1,000 ; Prince Frederick of 
Prussia, who took a lively interest in the matter, offered 
in addition 100 Friedrichs d'or for the discovery of 
the body, or for information which might lead to the 
solution of the mystery, but no information to be de- 
pended upon ever transpired. Various rumours cir- 
culated ; and Mrs. Thistlethwaite, the sister of Benja- 
min Bathurst, in her Memoirs of Dr. Henry Bathurst, 
Bishop of Norwich, published by Bentley in 1853, 
gives them. He was said to have been lost at sea. 
Another report was that he was murdered by his 
valet, who took an open boat on the Elbe, and escaped. 
Another report again was that he had been lost in a 
vessel which was crossing to Sweden and which foun- 
dered about this time. These reports are all totally 
void of truth. Mrs. Thistlethwaite declares that 
Count d'Entraigues, who was afterwards so cruelly 
murdered along with his wife by their Italian servant, 
was heard to say that he could prove that Mr. Bathurst 
was murdered in the fortress of Magdeburg. In a 
letter to his wife, dated October 14, 1809, Benjamin 
Bathurst said that he trusted to reach home by way 
of Colberg and Sweden. D'Entraigues had been a 
French spy in London ; and Mrs. Thistlethwaite says 
that he himself told Mrs. Bathurst that her husband 
had been carried off by douaniers-montcs from Perle- 



12 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

berg to Magdeburg, and murdered there. This it is 
hard to believe. 

Thomas Richard Underwood, in a letter from Paris, 
November 24, 1816, says he was a prisoner of war in 
Paris in 1809, and that both the English and French 
there believed that the crime of his abduction and 
murder had been committed by the French Govern- 
ment. 

The "European Magazine" for January, 18 10, says 
that he was apparently carried off by a party of 
French troops stationed at Lenzen, but this was not 
the case. No French troops were on that side of the 
Elbe. It further says, " The French Executive, with 
a view to ascertain by his papers the nature of the 
relations subsisting between this country and the 
Austrian Government, has added to the catalogue of 
its crimes by the seizure, or probably the murder, of 
this gentleman." 

If there had been French troops seen we should have 
known of it ; but none were. Every effort was made 
by the civil and military authorities to trace Bathurst. 
Bloodhounds were employed to track the lost man, 
in vain. Every well was explored, the bed of 
the Stepnitz thoroughly searched. Every suspicious 
house in Perleberg was examined from attic to cellar, 
the gardens were turned up, the swamps sounded, 
but every effort to trace and discover him was in 
vain. 

On January 23, 18 10, in a Hamburg paper, ap- 
peared a paragraph, which for the first time informed 
the people of Perleberg who the merchant Koch 
really was who had so mysteriously vanished. The 



THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 13 

paragraph was in the form of a letter, dated from 
London, January 6, 18 10 — that is, six weeks after the 
disappearance. It ran thus : " Sir Bathurst, Am- 
bassador Extraordinary of England to the Court of 
Austria, concerning whom a German newspaper, 
under date of December 10, stated that he had com- 
mitted suicide in a fit of insanity, is well in mind and 
body. His friends have received a letter from him 
dated December 13, which, therefore, must have been 
written after the date of his supposed death." 

Who inserted this, and for what purpose ? It was 
absolutely untrue. Was it designed to cause the 
authorities to relax their efforts to probe the mystery, 
and perhaps to abandon them altogether ? 

The Jewish merchants were examined, but were at 
once discharged ; they were persons well-to-do, and 
generally respected. 

Was it possible that Mr. Bathurst had committed 
suicide ? This was the view taken of his disappear- 
ance in France, where, in the " Moniteur " of December 
12, 1809, a letter from the correspondent in Berlin 
stated : " Sir Bathurst on his way fr&m Berlin showed 
signs of insanity, and destroyed himself in the neigh- 
bourhood of Perleberg." On January 23, 18 10, as 
already said, the " Times " took the matter up, and 
not obscurely charged the Emperor Napoleon with 
having made away with Mr. Bathurst, who was 
peculiarly obnoxious to him. 

In the mean time, the fur coat had been found, 
hidden in the cellar of a family named Schmidt, be- 
hind some firewood. Frau Schmidt declared that it 
had been left at the post house, where she had found 



i 4 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

it ; and had conveyed it away, and given it to her son 
Augustus, a fellow of notoriously bad character. 
Now, it is remarkable that one witness declared that 
she had seen the stranger who had disappeared go 
out of the square down the narrow lane in which the 
Schmidts lived, and where eventually the fur coat was 
found. When questioned, Augustus Schmidt said 
that " his mother had told him the stranger had two 
pistols, and had sent her to buy him some powder. 
He supposed therefore that the gentleman had shot 
himself." Unfortunately the conflict of authorities 
acted prejudicially at this point, and the questions 
how the Schmidts came to know anything about 
the pistols, whether Frau Schmidt really was sent for 
powder, and whether Bathurst was really seen enter- 
ing the alley in which they lived, and at what hour, 
were never properly entered into. Whatever infor- 
mation Klitzing obtained, was forwarded to Berlin, 
and there his reports remain in the archives. They 
have not been examined. 

Fresh quarrels broke out between Klitzing and the 
Burgomaster, and Klitzing instead of pursuing the 
main investigations, set to work to investigate the 
proceedings of the Burgomaster. So more time was 
lost. 

On Thursday, November 30th, that is to say, five 
days after the disappearance of Bathurst, Captain 
Klitzing ordered the town magistrates; 1. To have 
all ditches and canals round the place examined ; 2. 
To have the neighbourhood of the town explored by 
foresters with hounds ; 3. To let off the river Stepnitz 
and examine the bed. Then he added, " as I have 



THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 15 

. ascertained that Augustus Schmidt, who is now under 
arrest for the theft of the fur coat, was not at home at 
the time that the stranger disappeared, I require that 
this fact be taken into consideration, and investigated " 
— and this, as far as we can ascertain, was not done ; 
it was just one of those valuable clues which were left 
untraced. 

The whole neighbourhood was searched, ditches,, 
ponds, the river bed, drains, every cellar, and garden, 
and nothing found. The search went on to December 
6, and proved wholly resultless. It was not till 
December 16 that the trousers were found. It is. 
almost certain that they were laid in the Quitzow 
wood after the search had been given over, on 
December 6th. 

As nothing could be proved against the Schmidt 
family, except that they had taken the fur coat, Frau 
Schmidt and her son were sentenced to eight weeks'' 
imprisonment. 

The matter of the pistols was not properly cleared 
up. That, again, was a point, and an important point 
that remained uninvestigated. 

The military authorities who examined the goods 
of Mr. Bathurst declared that nothing was missing 
except the fur cloak, which was afterwards recovered, 
and we suppose these pistols were included. If not, 
one may be sure that some notice would have been 
taken of the fact that he had gone off with his pistols, 
and had not returned. This would have lent colour 
to the opinion that he destroyed himself. Besides no 
shot was heard. A little way outside the gateway of 
the town beyond the Swan inn is a bridge over the 



1 6 HISTORIC ODDITIES, 

small and sluggish stream of the Stepnitz. It was 
possible he might have shot himself there, and fallen 
into the water ; but this theory will not bear looking 
closely into. A shot fired there would certainly have 
been heard at night in the cottages beside the road ; 
the river was searched shortly after without a trace of 
him having been found, and his trousers with bullet 
holes made in them after they had been taken off him 
had been discovered in another direction. 

The " Moniteur " of January 29 said : " Among the 
civilised races, England is the only one that sets an 
example of having bandits 1 in pay, and inciting to 
crime. From information we have received from 
Berlin, we believe that Mr. Bathurst had gone off his 
head. It is the manner of the British Cabinet to 
commit diplomatic commissions to persons whom the 
whole nation knows are half fools. It is only the 
English diplomatic service which contains crazy 
people." 

This violent language was at the time attributed to 
Napoleon's dictation, stung with the charge made by 
the " Times," a charge ranking him with " vulgar 
murderers," and which attributed to him two other 
and somewhat similar cases, that of Wagstaff, and 
that of Sir George Rumbold. It is very certain that 
the " Moniteur " would not have ventured on such 
insulting language without his permission. 

In April Mrs. Bathurst, along with some relatives, 

1 When, in 181 5, Napoleon was at St. Helena, on his first 
introduction to Sir Hudson Lowe, he addressed the governor 
with the insulting words, " Monsieur, vous avez command^ des 
brigands." He alluded to the Corsican rangers in the British 
service, which Lowe had commanded. 



THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 17 

arrived in Perleberg. The poor lady was in great 
distress and anxiety to have the intolerable suspense 
alleviated by a discovery of some sort, and the most 
liberal offers were made and published to induce a 
disclosure of the secret. At this time a woman 
named Hacker, the wife of a peasant who lived in 
the shoe-market, was lying in the town gaol — the 
tower already mentioned, adjoining the White Swan. 
She was imprisoned for various fraudulent acts. She 
now offered to make a confession, and this was her 
statement : 

" A few weeks before Christmas I was on my way 
to Perleberg from a place in Holstein, where my 
husband had found work. In the little town of 
Seeberg, twelve miles from Hamburg, I met the 
shoemaker's assistant Goldberger, of Perleberg, whom 
I knew from having danced with him. He was well- 
dressed, and had from his fob hanging a hair-chain 
with gold seals. His knitted silk purse was stuffed 
with louis d'ors. When I asked him how he came 
by so much money, he said, ' Oh, I got 500 dollars 
and the watch as hush-money when the Englishman 
was murdered.' He told me no more particulars, 
except that one of the seals was engraved with a 
name, and he had had that altered in Hamburg." 

No credit was given to this story, and no inquiry 
was instituted into the whereabouts of Goldberger. 
It was suspected that the woman had concocted it in 
the hopes of getting Mrs. Bathurst to interest herself 
in obtaining her release, and of getting some of the 
money offered to informers. 

Mrs. Bathurst did not return immediately to 



18 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

England ; she appealed to Napoleon to grant her 
information, and he assured her through Cambacieres, 
and on his word of honour, that he knew nothing of 
the matter beyond what he had seen in the papers. 

So the matter rested, an unsolved mystery. 

In Prussia, among the great bulk of the educated, 
in the higher and official classes, the prevailing con- 
viction was that Napoleon had caused the disappear- 
ance of Bathurst, not out of personal feeling, but in 
political interests, for the purpose of getting hold of 
the dispatches which he was believed to be conveying 
to England from the Austrian Government. The 
murder was held to be an accident, or an unavoidable 
consequence. And in Perleberg itself this was the 
view taken of the matter as soon as it was known who 
the stranger was. But then, another opinion pre- 
vailed there, that Klitzing had secretly conveyed him 
over the frontier, so as to save him from the spies, 
and the pursuit which, as he and Bathurst knew, 
endangered the safety of the returning envoy. 

In Perleberg two opinions were formed, by such as 
conceived that he had been murdered, as to the 
manner in which he had been made away with. 

Not far from the post-house was at the time a low 
tavern kept by Hacker, who has been mentioned 
above ; the man combined shoemaking with the sale 
of brandy. Augustus Schmidt spent a good deal of 
his time in this house. Now shortly after this affair, 
Hacker left Perleberg, and set up at Altona, where he 
showed himself possessed of a great deal of money. 
He was also said to have disposed of a gold repeater 
watch to a jeweller in Hamburg. This was never 



THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 19 

gone into ; and how far it was true, or idle rumour, 
cannot be said. One view was that Bathurst had been 
robbed and murdered by Hacker and Schmidt. 

The other opinion was this. Opposite the post- 
house was a house occupied at the time by a fellow 
who was a paid French spy ; a man who was tried 
for holding secret communication with the enemy of 
his Fatherland. He was a petty lawyer, who stirred 
up quarrels among the peasants, and lived by the 
result. He was a man of the worst possible char- 
acter, capable of anything. The opinion of one 
section of the people of Perleberg was, that Bathurst, 
before entering the carriage, had gone across the 
square, and had entered into conversation with this 
man, who had persuaded him to enter his door, where 
he had strangled him, and buried him in his cellar. 
The widow of this man on her death-bed appeared 
anxious to confess something, but died before she 
could speak. 

In 1852 a discovery was made at Perleberg which 
may or may not give the requisite solution. 

We may state before mentioning this that Captain 
Klitzing never believed that Bathurst had been 
spirited away by French agents. He maintained 
that he had been murdered for his money. 

On April 15, 1852, a house on the Hamburg road 
that belonged to the mason Kiesewetter was being 
pulled down, when a human skeleton was discovered 
under the stone threshold of the stable. The skeleton 
lay stretched out, face upwards, on the black peat 
earth, covered with mortar and stone chips, the head 
embedded in walling-stones and mortar. In the back 



20 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

of the skull was a fracture, as if a blow of a heavy 
instrument had fallen on it. All the upper teeth were 
perfect, but one of the molars in the lower jaw was 
absent, and there were indications of its having been 
removed by a dentist. The house where these human 
remains were found had been purchased in 1834 by 
the mason Kiesewetter from Christian Mertens, who 
had inherited it from his father, which latter had 
bought it in 1803 of a shoemaker. Mertens, the 
father, had been a serving man in the White Szvan at 
the time of the disappearance of Mr. Bathnrst. 

Inquiry was made into what was known of old 
Mertens. Everyone spoke highly of him as a saving, 
steady man, God-fearing ; who had scraped together 
during his service in the Swan sufficient money to 
dower his two daughters with respectively £i$0 and 
£120. After a long illness he had died, generally re- 
spected. 

Information of the discovery was forwarded to the 
Bathurst family, and on August 23,Mrs.Thistlethwaite,. 
sister of Benjamin, came to Perleberg, bringing with 
her a portrait of her brother, but she was quite unable 
to say that the skull that was shown her belonged to 
the missing man, whom she had not seen for forty- 
three years. And — no wonder ! When Goethe was- 
shown the skull of his intimate friend Schiller he 
could hardly trace any likeness to the head he re- 
membered so well. Mrs. Thistlethwaite left, believing 
that the discovery had no connection with the mystery 
of her brother's disappearance, so ineradicably fixed 
in the convictions of the family was the belief that he 
had been carried away by French agents. 



THE DISA PRE A RANCE OF BA THURST. 2 1 

However, let us consider this discovery a little 
closer, and perhaps we shall be led to another con- 
clusion. 

In the first place, the skeleton was that of a man 
who had been murdered by a blow on the back of his 
head, which had fractured the skull. It had been 
stripped before being buried, for not a trace of cloth- 
ing could be found. 

Secondly, the house of the Mertens family lay on 
the Hamburg road, on the way to Lenzen, outside 
the Parchimer Gate, only three hundred paces from 
the White Swan. In fact, it was separated from the 
White Swan only by the old town-gate and prison 
tower, and a small patch of garden ground. 

At the time of the disappearance of Mr. Bathurst 
it was inhabited by Christian Mertens, who was ser- 
vant at the White Swan. No examination was made 
at the time of the loss of Bathurst into the where- 
abouts of Mertens, nor was his cottage searched. It 
was assumed that he was at the inn waiting for his 
"vale," like the ostler and the Kellner. It is quite 
possible that he may have been standing near the 
horses' heads, and that he may have gone on with 
Mr. Bathurst a few steps to show him the direction 
he was to go ; or, with the pretence that he had im- 
portant information to give him, he may have allured 
him into his cottage, and there murdered him, or, again, 
he may have drawn him on to where by pre-arrange- 
ment Goldberger was lying in wait with a hammer or 
hatchet to strike him down from behind. Consider- 
ing how uneasy Mr. Bathurst was about the road, and 
how preoccupied with the idea that French spies and 



22 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

secret agents were on the look-out for him, he might 
easily have been induced by a servant of the inn 
where he was staying to go a few steps through the 
gate, beyond earshot of the post-boy and landlord 
and ostler, to hear something which the boots pre- 
tended was of importance to him. Goldberger or 
another may have lain in wait in the blackness of the 
shadow of the gateway but a short distance from the 
lights about the carriage, and by one stroke have 
silenced him. It is possible that Augustus Schmidt 
may have been mixed up in the matter, and that the 
sable coat was taken off Mr. Bathurst when dead. 

Again, Mertens was able on the marriage of his 
two daughters to give one 150/. and the other 120/. 
This would mean that Mertens had saved as boots of 
the Swan at the least 300/., for he would not give 
every penny to his children. Surely this was a con- 
siderable sum for a boots in a little inn to amass from 
his wage and from " vales." 

Mrs. Thistlethwaite asserts in her Memoirs of Bishop 
Bathurst that shortly after the disappearance of her 
brother the ostler — can she mean Mertens ? — also 
disappeared, ran awa)'. But we do not know of any 
corroborating evidence. 

Lastly, the discovery of the trousers in the wood 
near Ouitzow points to the traveller having been 
murdered in Perleberg ; the murderers, whoever they 
were, finding that an investigation of houses, barns, 
gardens and stables was being made, took the gar- 
ments of the unfortunate man, discharged a couple of 
shots through them to make believe he had been 
fired at by several persons lying in wait for him, and 



THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BA THURST. 23 

then exposed them in a place away from the road 
along which Mr. Bathurst was going. The man who 
carried these garments was afraid of being observed, 
and he probably did not go through the town with 
them, but made a circuit to the wood, and for the 
same reason did not take them very far. The road 
to Lenzen ran S.W. and that to Quitzow N.W. He 
placed the trousers near the latter, but did not ven- 
ture to cross the highway. He could get to the wood 
over the fields unperceived. 

Supposing that this is the solution of the mystery, 
one thing remains to be accounted for — the paragraph 
in the Hamburg paper dated from London, announc- 
ing that Mr. Bathurst was alive and had been heard 
of since the disappearance. 

This, certainly, seems to have been inserted with a 
design to divert or allay suspicion, and it was gener- 
ally held to have been sent from London by a French 
agent, on instruction from Paris. But it is possible 
that the London correspondent may have heard a 
coffee-house rumour that Bathurst was still alive, and 
at once reported it to the paper. Its falsehood was 
palpable, and would be demonstrated at once by the 
family of the lost man to the authorities at Perleberg. 
It could not answer the purpose of arresting inquiry 
and staying investigation. 

It remains only to inquire whether it was probable 
that Napoleon had any hand in the matter. 

What could induce him to lay hands on an envoy? 
He could not expect to find on the person of Mr. 
Bathurst any important dispatches, for the war was 
over, peace with Austria was concluded. He was 



24 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

doubtless angry at Austria having declared war, and 
angry at England having instigated her to do so, but 
Mr. Bathurst was very small game indeed on which 
to wreak his anger ; moreover, the peace that had 
been concluded with Austria gave great advantages 
to France. He can have had no personal dislike to 
Bathurst, for he never saw him. When Napoleon 
entered Vienna, Bathurst was with the Emperor 
Francis in Hungary, at Komorn. 

And yet, he may have suspected that Austria was 
insincere, and was anxious to renew the conflict, if 
she could obtain assurance of assistance from Eng- 
land. He may have thought that by securing the 
papers carried to England by Bathurst, he would get 
at the real intentions of Austria, and so might be 
prepared for consequences. We cannot say. The 
discovery of the body in Mertens' house, under the 
threshold — supposing it to be that of Bathurst, does 
not by any means prove that the murder was a mere 
murder for the purpose of robbery. 

If Napoleon had given instructions for the capture 
of Bathurst, and the taking from him of his papers, it 
does not follow that he ordered his murder, on the 
contrary, he would have given instructions that he 
should be robbed — as if by highwaymen — and let go 
with his life. The murder was against his wishes, if 
he did give orders for him to be robbed. 

The Bathurst family never doubted that Benjamin 
had been murdered by the agents of Napoleon. It is 
certain that he was well aware that his safety was 
menaced, and menaced at Perleberg. That was why 
he at once on reaching the place asked for the pro- 



THE DISAPPEARANCE OF BATHURST. 25 

tection of a guard. He had received warning from 
some one, and such warning shows that an attempt 
to rob him of his papers was in contemplation. 

That caution to be on his guard must have been 
given him, before he left Vienna. He probably re- 
ceived another before he reached Perleberg, for he 
appeared before the Commandant in a state of great 
alarm and agitation. That this was mere spiritual 
presage of evil is hardly credible. We cannot doubt 
— and his letter to his wife leads to this conviction — 
that he had been warned that spies in the pay of the 
French Government were on the look-out for him. 
Who the agents were that were employed to get hold 
of his papers, supposing that the French Government 
did attempt to waylay him, can never be determined, 
whether Mertens or Augustus Schmidt. 

In 18 1 5 Earl Bathurst was Secretary of State for 
War and the Colonial Department. May we not 
suspect that there was some mingling of personal 
exultation along with political satisfaction, in being 
able to send to St. Helena the man who had not 
only been the scourge of Europe, and the terror of 
kings, but who, as he supposed — quite erroneously 
we believe — had inflicted on his own family an agony 
of suspense and doubt that was never to be wholly 
removed ? 



Zhe Smcbess of IRincjstoru 

Elizabeth Chudleigh, Countess of Bristol and 
Duchess of Kingston, who was tried for bigamy in 
Westminster Hall by the Peers in 1776, was, it can 
hardly be doubted, the original from whom Thackeray 
drew his detailed portrait of Beatrix Esmond, both as 
young Trix and as the old Baroness Bernstein ; nor 
can one doubt that what he knew of his prototype 
was taken from that scandalous little book, " An 
Authentic Detail of Particulars relative to the late 
Duchess of Kingston," published by G. Kearsley in 
1788. Thackeray not only reproduced some of the 
incidents of her life, but more especially caught the 
features of her character. 

Poor Trix ! Who does not remember her coming 
down the great staircase at Walcote, candle in hand, 
in her red stockings and with a new cherryribbon round 
her neck, her eyes like blue stars, her brown hair 
curling about her head, and not feel a lingering liking 
for the little coquette, trying to catch my Lord 
Mohun, and the Duke of Hamilton, and many 
another, and missing all ? and for the naughty old 
baroness, with her scandalous stories, her tainted past, 
her love of cards, her complete unscrupulousness, and 
yet with one soft corner in the withered heart for the 
young Virginians ? 

The famous, or infamous, Duchess has had hard 



THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 27 

measure dealt out to her, which she in part deserved ; 
but some of the stories told of her are certainly not 
true, and one circumstance in her life, if true, goes far 
to palliate her naughtiness. Unfortunately, almost 
all we know of her is taken from unfriendly sources. 
The only really impartial source of information is the 
" Trial," published by order of the Peers, but that 
covers only one portion of her life, and one set of 
incidents. 

Elizabeth Chudleigh was the daughter of Colonel 
Thomas Chudleigh, of Chelsea, and his wife Henri- 
etta, who was his first cousin, the fourth daughter 
of Hugh Chudleigh, of Chalmington, in Dorset. 
Thomas was the only brother of Sir George Chud- 
leigh, fourth baronet of Asheton, in Devon. As Sir 
George left only daughters, Thomas, the brother of 
Elizabeth, whose baptism in 17 18 is recorded in the 
Chelsea registers, succeeded as fifth baronet in 1738. 
Unfortunately the Chelsea registers do not give the 
baptism of Elizabeth, and we are not able to state her 
precise age, about which there is some difference. 
Her father had a post in Chelsea College, but 
apparently she was not born there. There can, how- 
ever, be little doubt that she saw the light for the first 
time in 1726, and not in 1720, as is generally asserted. 

Her family was one of great antiquity in the county 
of Devon, and was connected by marriage with the 
first families of the west of England. The old seat, 
Asheton, lies in a pleasant coombe under the ridge of 
Haldon ; some remains of the old mansion, and 
venerable trees of the park, linger on ; and in the 
picturesque parish church, perched on a rock in the 



28 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

valley, are many family monuments and heraldic 
blazonings of the Chudleigh lions, gules on an 
ermine field. Elizabeth lost her father very early, 
and the widow was left on a poor pension to support 
and advance the prospects of her two children. 
Though narrowed in fortune, Mrs. Chudleigh had 
good connections, and she availed herself of these to 
push her way in the world. At the age of sixteen — 
that is, in 1743 — Elizabeth was given the appoint- 
ment of maid of honour to the Princess of Wales, 
through the favour of Mr. Pulteney, afterwards Earl 
of Bath, who had met her one day while out shooting. 
The old beau was taken with the vivacity, intelligence 
and beauty of the girl. She was then not only re- 
markable for her beauty, delicacy of complexion, and 
sparkling eyes, but also for the brilliancy of her wit 
and the liveliness of her humour. Even her rival, the 
Marquise de la Touchc, of whom more hereafter, 
bears testimony to her charms. Pulteney, himself a 
witty, pungent, and convivial man, was delighted with 
the cleverness of the lovely girl, and amused himself 
with drawing it out. In after years, when she was 
asked the secret of her sparkling repartee, she re- 
plied, "I always aim to be short, clear, and surprising." 
The Princess of Wales, Augusta, daughter of 
Frederick of Saxe-Gotha, who with the Prince, 
Frederick Lewis, had their court at Leicester House, 
became greatly attached to her young maid of honour. 
The beautiful Miss Chudleigh was speedily sur- * 
rounded by admirers, among whom was James, sixth 
Duke of Hamilton, born in 1724, and therefore two 
years her senior. 



THE DUCHESS OB KINGSTOY. 29 

According to the "Authentic Detail," the Duke 
obtained from her a solemn engagement that, on his 
return from a tour on the Continent which he was 
about to take, she would become his wife. Then he 
departed, having arranged for a mutual correspond- 
ence. 

In the summer of 1744 she went on a visit to 
Lainston, near Winchester, to her maternal aunt, 
Anne Hanmer, who was then living at the house of 
Mr. Merrill, the son of another aunt, Susanna, who 
was dead. 

To understand the relationship of the parties, a 
look will suffice at the following pedigree. 1 

Sir George Chudleigh = Elizabeth, da. of Hugh Fortescue 
2nd Bart. 



Hugh Chudleigh = Susanna da. Sir George Chudleigh = Mary da. 



2nd surv. son, 
d. 1716 



Sir R.Stroud. s. & h., 3rd Bart., I R.Lee, 

d. 1719. d. 1710. 



I . .1 

Susanna, Anne, Henrietta = Thomas Chudleigh, Sir George 

2nd son, Chudleigh, 



d. 1740, d. 1764, d. 1756. 

m. John m. Wm. 
Merrill. Hanmer. 



d. before 1734. 4th Bart. 

d. s. p. 
1738. 



I I 

Elizabeth, Sir Thomas Chudleigh, 

Duchess of Kingston, 5th Bart., d. s. p. 1741. 
d. 1788. 

Mrs. Hanmer, a widow, kept house for her nephew, 
who was squire. At the Winchester races, to which 
she went with a party, Elizabeth met Lieutenant 
Hervey, second son of the late John, Lord Hervey, 
and grandson of the Earl of Bristol. Lieutenant 

1 In Col. Vivian's "Visitations of the County of Devon," the 
pedigree is not so complete. He was unaware who the 
wife of Thos. Chudleigh was, and he had not seen the will of 
the duchess. 



3 o HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

Hervey, who was in the "Cornwall," then lying at 
Portsmouth, a vessel in Sir John Danver's squadron, 
was born in 1724, and was therefore two years the 
senior of Elizabeth ; indeed, at the time he was only 
just twenty. He was fascinated by the beautiful girl, 
and was invited by Mrs. Hanmer to Lainston. "To 
this gentleman," says the " Authentic Detail," " Mrs. 
Hanmer became so exceedingly partial that she 
favoured his views on her niece, and engaged her 
efforts to effect, if possible, a matrimonial connexion. 
There were two difficulties which would have been 
insurmountable if not opposed by the fertile genius 
of a female: Miss Chudleigh disliked Captain Hervey, 
and she was betrothed to the Duke of Hamilton. To 
render this last nugatory, the letters of his Grace were 
intercepted by Mrs. Hanmer, and his supposed silence 
giving offence to her niece, she worked so successfully 
on her pride as to induce her to abandon all thoughts 
of the lover, whose passion she had cherished with 
delight." 

Is this story true ? It seems incredible that Mrs. 
Hanmer should have urged her niece to throw over 
such a splendid prospect of family advancement as 
that offered by marriage with the Duke of Hamilton, for 
the sake of an impecunious young sailor who was 
without the means of supporting his wife, and who, , 
at that time, had not the faintest expectation of suc- 
ceeding to the Earldom of Bristol. 

It is allowable to hope that the story of the engage- 
ment to the Duke of Hamilton, broken through the 
intrigues of the aunt, is true, as it forms some excuse 
for the after conduct of Elizabeth Chudleisrh. 



THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 31 

It is more probable that the Duke of Hamilton had 
not said anything to Elizabeth, and did not write to 
her, at all events not till later. She may have enter- 
tained a liking for him, but not receiving any token 
that the liking was reciprocated, she allowed her aunt 
to engage and marry her to young Hervey. That 
the poor girl had no fancy for the young man is 
abundantly clear. The Attorney General, in the trial, 
said that Mrs. Hanmer urged on the match " as ad- 
vantageous to her niece ; " but advantageous it 
certainly was not, and gave no prospect of being. 

In August, Augustus John Hervey got leave from 
his ship and came to Lainston. The house, which 
had belonged to the Dawleys, had passed into the 
possession of the Merrills. In the grounds stands the 
parish church, but as the only house in the parish is 
the mansion, it came to be regarded very much as the 
private chapel of the manor house. The living went 
with Sparsholt There was no parsonage attached, 
and though the Dawleys had their children baptized 
in Lainston, they were registered in the book of Spars- 
holt. The church is now an ivy-covered ruin, and the 
mansion is much reduced in size from what it was in 
the time when it belonged to the Merrills. 

"Lainston is a small parish, the value of the living 
being ^15 a year ; Mr. Merrill's the only house in it, 
and the parish church at the end of his garden. On 
the 4th August,- 1744, Mr. Amis, the then rector, was 
appointed to be at the church, alone, late at night. 
At eleven o'clock Mr. Hervey and Miss Chudleigh 
went out, as if to walk in the garden, followed by Mrs. 
Hanmer, her servant — Anne Craddock, Mr. Merrill, 



32 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

and Mr. Mountenay, which last carried a taper to read 
the service by. They found Mr. Amis in the church, 
according to his appointment, and there the service 
was celebrated, Mr. Mountenay holding the taper in 
his hat. The ceremony being performed, Mrs. Han- 
mer's maid was despatched to see that the coast was 
clear, and they returned into the house without being 
observed by any of the servants." This is the ac- 
count of the wedding given at the trial by the Attorney 
General, from the evidence of Anne Craddock, then 
the sole surviving witness. 

There was no signing of registers, Mr. Amis was 
left to make the proper entry in the Sparsholt book — 
and he forgot to do this. The happiness of the newly- 
married couple lasted but a few days — two, or at the 
outside, three ; and then Lieutenant Hervey left to 
rejoin his vessel, and in November sailed for the West 
Indies. The " Authentic Detail " declares that a 
violent quarrel broke out immediately on marriage 
between the young people, and that Elizabeth declared 
her aversion, and vowed never to associate with him 
again. 

So little was the marriage to her present advantage 
that Elizabeth was unable to proclaim it, and thereby 
forfeit her situation as maid of honour to the Princess, 
with its pay and perquisites. Consequently, by her 
aunt's advice, she kept it concealed. 

" Miss Chudleigh, now Mrs. Hervey, — a maid in 
appearance, a wife in disguise, — seemed from those 
who judge from externals only, to be in an enviable 
situation. Of the higher circles she was the attractive 
centre, of gayer life the invigorating spirit. Her royal 



THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 33 

mistress not only smiled on, but actually approved 
her. A few friendships she cemented, and conquests 
she made in such abundance that, like Csesar in a 
triumph, she had a train of captives at her heels. 
Her husband, quieted for a time, grew obstreperous 
as she became more the object of admiration. He 
felt his right, and was determined to assert it. She 
endeavoured by letter to negotiate him into peace, but 
her efforts succeeded not. He demanded a private 
interview, and, enforcing his demands by threats of 
exposure in case of refusal, she complied through 
compulsion." 

The Duke of Hamilton returned from the grand 
tour, and he at once sought Elizabeth to know why 
his letters had not been answered. Then the fraud 
that had been practised on her was discovered, and 
the Duke laid his coronet at her feet. She was 
unable to accept the offer, and unable also to explain 
the reasons of her refusal. Rage at having been 
duped, disappointment at having lost the strawberry 
leaves, embittered Elizabeth, and stifled the germs of 
good principle in her. 

This is the generally received story. It is that 
given by the author, or authoress, of the " Authentic 
Detail," usually^well informed. But, as we have seen, 
it is hardly possible to suppose that Mrs. Hanmer 
can have suppressed the Duke's letters. No doubt 
she was a fool, (and a woman, when a fool, is of 
abnormaljblly, yet she never loses sight of her own in- 
terest; and it was not Mrs. Hanmer's interest to spoil 
the chances of her niece with the Duke. 

After the Duke of Hamilton had been refused, and 



34 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

his visits to her house in Conduit Street prohibited, 
the Duke of Ancaster, Lord Howe, and other nobles 
made offers, and experienced a fate similar to that of 
his Grace of Hamilton. This astonished the fashion- 
able world, and Mrs. Chudleigh, her mother, who was 
a stranger to the private marriage of her daughter 
reprehended her folly with warmth. 1 To be freed 
from her embarrassments, Elizabeth resolved to travel. 
She embarked for the Continent, and visited Dresden, 
where she became an attached friend of the Electress 
of Saxony. 

On her return to England she was subjected to an- 
noyance from her husband. She could not forgive him 
the deception practised on her, though he was prob- 
ably innocent of connivance in it. 

" Captain Hervey, like a perturbed spirit, was 
eternally crossing the path trodden by his wife. 
Was she in the rooms at Bath ? he was sure to be 
there. At a rout, ridotto, or ball, there was this fell 
destroyer of peace, embittering every pleasure and 
blighting the fruit of happiness by the pestilential 
malignity of his presence. As a proof of his disposi- 
tion to annoy, he menaced his wife with an intimation 
that he would disclose the marriage to the Princess 
of Wales. In this Miss Chudleigh anticipated him 
by being the first relater of the circumstance. Her 
royal mistress heard and pitied her. She continued 
her patronage to the hour of her death." 

In 1749, Elizabeth attended a masquerade ball in 
the dress, or rather undress, of the character of 

1 Mrs. Chudleigh died in 1756, and her will mentions her 
daughter by her maiden name. 



THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 35 

Iphigenia. [In a letter of Mrs. Montague to her 
sister, she says, " Miss Chudleigh's dress, or rather 
undress, was remarkable, she was Iphigenia for the 
sacrifice, but so naked, the high priest might easily 
inspect the entrails of the victim. The Maids of 
Honour (not of maids the strictest) were so offended 
they would not speak to her." Horace Walpole says, 
" Miss Chudleigh was Iphigenia, but so naked that 
you would have taken her for Andromeda." It was 
of her that the witty remark was then first made that 
she resembled Eve in that she was " naked and not 
ashamed." On May 17th Walpole writes: "I told 
you we were to have another masquerade ; there 
was one by the King's command for Miss Chudleigh, 
the Maid of Honour, with whom our gracious monarch 
has a mind to believe himself in love, so much in love, 
that at one of the booths he gave her a fairing for 
her watch, which cost him five-and-thirty' guineas, 
actually disbursed out of his privy purse, and not 
charged on the civil list. I hope some future Holin- 
shed or Speed will acquaint posterity that five-and- 
thirty guineas were an immense sum in those days." 

In December 1750, George II. gave the situation 
of Housekeeper at Windsor to Mrs. Chudleigh, 
Elizabeth's mother. Walpole says, " Two days ago, 
the gallant Orondates (the King) strode up to Miss 
Chudleigh, and told her he was glad to have the 
opportunity of obeying her commands, that he ap- 
pointed her mother Housekeeper at Windsor, and 
hoped she would not think a kiss too great a reward 
— against all precedent he kissed her in the circle. 
He has had a hankerinsr. these two years. Her life, 



56 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

which is now of thirty years' standing, has been a 
little historic. Why should not experience and a 
charming face on her side, and near seventy years on 
his, produce a title ? " 

In 1760 she gave a soiree on the Prince's birthday, 
which Horace Walpole describes : " Poor thing," he 
writes, " I fear she has thrown away above a quarter's 
salary ! ' 

The Duke of Kingston saw and was captivated by 
Elizabeth. Evelyn Pierrepoint, Duke of Kingston, 
Marquis of Dorchester, Earl of Kingston, and Vis- 
count Newark, was born in 171 1. Horace Walpole 
says of him that he was " a very weak man, of the 
greatest beauty and finest person in England." 

He had been to Paris along with Lord Scarborough, 
taking with him an entire horse as a present to the 
Duke of Bourbon, and was unable to do this without 
a special Act of Parliament to authorise him. The 
Duke of Bourbon, in return for the compliment, 
placed his palace at Paris, and his chateau of Chan- 
tilly at the disposal of the visitor. 

The Duke was handsome, young, wealthy and un- 
married. A strong set was made at him by the 
young ladies of the French court ; but of all the 
women he there met, none attracted his attentions 
and engaged his heart but the Marquise de la Touche, 
a lady who had been married for ten years and was 
the mother of three children. He finally persuaded 
her to elope with him to England, where, however, he 
grew cold towards her, and when he fell under the 
fascinations of Elizabeth Chudleigh he dismissed her. 
The Marquise returned to France, and was reconciled 



THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 37 

to her husband; there in 1786 she published her 
version of the story, and gave a history of her rival, 
whom naturally she paints in the blackest colours. 

Now follows an incident which is stated in the 
English accounts of the life of Elizabeth Chudleigh ; 
but of which there is no mention in the trial, and 
which is of more than doubtful truth. 

She had become desperate, resolved at all hazard 
to break the miserable tie that bound her to Captain 
Hervey. She made a sudden descent on Lainston — 
so runs the tale — visited the parsonage, and whilst Mr. 
Amis was kept in conversation with one of her atten- 
dants, she tore out the leaf of the register book that 
contained the entry of her marriage. 

This story cannot possibly be true. As already 
said, Lainston has no parsonage, and never had. 
Lainston goes with Sparsholt, half-a-mile off. But Mr. 
Amis never held Sparsholt, but acted as curate there 
for a while in 1756 and 1757. Lainston had no 
original register. What Elizabeth did was probably 
to convince herself that through inadvertence, her 
marriage had not been registered in the parish book 
of Sparsholt. 

In 175 1 died John, Earl of Bristol, and was suc- 
ceeded by his grandson, George William, who was 
unmarried. He was in delicate health ; at one time 
seriously ill, and it was thought he would die. In that 
case Augustus John, Elizabeth's husband, would suc- 
ceed to the Earldom of Bristol. She saw now that it 
was to her interest to establish her marriage. She 
accordingly took means to do so. 

She went at once to Winchester and sent for the 



38 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

wife of Mr. Amis, who had married her. She told 
Mrs. Amis that she wanted the register of her mar- 
riage to be made out. Mr. Amis then lay on his 
death-bed, but, nevertheless, she went to the rectory 
to obtain of him what she desired. What ensued 
shall be told in the words of Mrs. Amis at the 
trial. 

vl went up to Mr. Amis and told him her request. 
Then Mr. Merrill and the lady consulted together 
whom to send for, and they desired me to send for 
Mr. Spearing, the attorney. I did send for him, and 
during the time the messenger was gone the lady 
concealed herself in a closet ; she said she did not 
care that Mr. Spearing should know that she was 
there. When Mr. Spearing came, Mr. Merrill pro- 
duced a sheet of stamped paper that he brought to 
make the register upon. Mr. Spearing said it would 
not do ; it must be a book, and that the lady must 
be at the making of it. Then I went to the closet 
and told the lady. Then the lady came to Mr. 
Spearing, and Mr. Spearing told the lady a sheet of 
stamped paper would not do, it must be a book. 
Then the lady desired Mr. Spearing to go and buy 
one. Mr. Spearing went and bought one, and when 
brought, the register was made. Then Mr. Amis 
delivered it to the lady ; the lady thanked him, and 
said it might be an hundred thousand pounds in her 
way. Before Mr. Merrill and the lady left my house 
the lady sealed up the register and gave it to me, and 
desired I would take care of it until Mr. Amis's 
death, and then deliver it to Mr. Merrill." 

The entries made thus were those : 



THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 39 

"2 August, Mrs. Susanna Merrill, relict of John Merrill, Esq. 
buried. 

4 August, 1744, married the Honourable Augustus Hervey, 
Esq., in the parish Church of Lainston, to Miss Elizabeth Chud- 
leigh, daughter of Col. Thomas Chudleigh, late of Chelsea 
College, by me, Thos. Amis." 

Unfortunately this register book was taken up to 
Westminster at the trial of the Duchess and was 
never returned. Application was made to Elbrow 
Woodcock, solicitor in the trial, for the return of the 
book, by the then rector and patron of the living, but 
in vain ; and in December, 1777, a new register book 
was purchased for the parish. 

The Earl recovered, and did not die till some years 
later, in 1775, when Augustus John did succeed to 
the earldom. 

In 175 1, the Prince of Wales died, and this ne- 
cessitated a rearrangement of the household of the 
Princess. Elizabeth was reappointed maid of honour 
to her, still in her maiden name. Soon after — that is, 
in 1752 — the Duke of Hamilton married the beautiful 
Miss Gunning. 

In 1760 the king was dead. " Charles Townshend, 
receiving an account of the impression the king's 
death had made," writes Walpole, "was told Miss 
Chudleigh cried. ' What,' said he, ' oysters ? ' " 
"(There is no keeping off age," he writes in 1767, "as 
Miss Chudleigh does, by sticking roses and sweet 
peas in one's hair." 

Before this, in 1765, the Duke of Kingston's 
affection for her seeming to wane, Elizabeth, who was 
getting fat as well as old, started for Carlsbad to 
drink the waters. " She has no more wanted the 



40 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

Carlsbad waters than you did," wrote Lord Chester- 
field. " Is it to show the Duke of Kingston he can 
not live without her ? A dangerous experiment, 
which may possibly convince him that he can. 
There is a trick, no doubt, in it, but what, I neither 
know nor care." " Is the fair, or, at least, the fat Miss 
Chudleigh with you still ? It must be confessed she 
knows the arts of courts to be so received at Dresden 
and so connived at in Leicester Fields." 

At last the bonds of a marriage in which he was 
never allowed even to speak with his wife became 
intolerable to Captain Hervey ; and some negotiations 
were entered into between them, whereby it was 
agreed that she should institute a suit in the Con- 
sistory Court of the Bishop of London for the 
jactitation of the marriage, and that he should not 
produce evidence to establish it. The case came on 
in the Michaelmas term, 1768, and was in form, pro- 
ceedings to restrain the Hon. Augustus John Hervey 
from asserting that Elizabeth Chudleigh was his wife, 
" to the great danger of his soul's health, no small 
prejudice to the said Hon. Elizabeth Chudleigh, and 
pernicious example of others." 

There was a counter-suit of Captain Hervey against 
her, in which he asserted that in 1743 or 1744, being 
then a minor of the age of seventeen or eighteen, he 
had contracted himself in marriage to Elizabeth 
Chudleigh, and she to him ; and that they had been 
married in the house of Mr. Merrill, on August 9, 
1744, at eleven o'clock at night, by the Rev. Thomas 
Amis, since deceased, and in the presence of Mrs. 
Hanmer and Mr. Mountenay, both also deceased. 



THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 41 

As will be seen, the counter-libel was incorrectly 
drawn. The marriage had not taken place in the 
house, but in the church ; Mr. Hervey was aged 
twenty, not seventeen or eighteen ; and Anne Crad- 
dock, the sole surviving witness of the ceremony, was 
not mentioned. The register of the marriage was not 
produced, 1 and no serious attempt was made to 
establish it. Accordingly, on February 10, 1769, 
sentence was given, declaring the marriage form gone 
through in 1744 to have been null and void, and to 
restrain Mr. Hervey from asserting his claim to be 
husband to Miss Elizabeth Chudleigh, and condemn- 
ing him in costs to the sum of one hundred pounds. 

As the Attorney-General said at her subsequent 
trial, " a grosser artifice, I believe, than this suit was 
never fabricated." 

On March 8, 1769, the Duke of Kingston married 
Elizabeth Chudleigh by special licence from the Arch- 
bishop, the minister who performed it being the Rev. 
Samuel Harper, of the British Museum, and the 
Church, St. Margaret's, Westminster. The Prince 
and Princess of Wales wore favours on the occa- 
sion. 

No attempt was made during the lifetime of the 

Duke to dispute the legality of the marriage. Neither 

he nor Elizabeth had the least doubt that the former 

marriage had been legally dissolved. It was, no doubt, 

the case that Captain Hervey made no real attempt 

1 Mr. John Merrill died February 1767, and his burial was 
entered in it. Mr. Bathurst, who had married his daughter, 
found the register book in the hall, and handed it over to the 
rector, Mr. Kinchin. Nevertheless it was not produced at the 
hearing of the case for jactitation in the Consistory Court. 



42 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

to prove his marriage, he was as impatient of the 
bond as was she. It can hardly be doubted that the 
sentence of the Ecclesiastical Court was just. Captain 
Hervey was a minor at the time, and the poor girl 
had been deluded into marrying him by her wretched 
aunt. Advantage had been taken of her — a mere 
girl — by the woman who was her natural guardian in 
the absence of her mother. Such a marriage would 
at once be annulled in the Court of the Church of 
Rome ; it would be annulled in a modern English 
divorce court. 

The fortune of the Duke was not entailed ; his 
Grace had, therefore, the option to bequeath it as 
seemed best to his inclination. His nearest of kin 
were his nephews, Evelyn and Charles Meadows, sons 
of Lady Francis Pierrepont ; Charles was in 1806 
created Earl Manners ; he had previously changed 
his name to Pierrepont, and been created Baron 
Pierrepont and Viscount Newark in 1796. 

;The Duke was and remained warmly attached to 
the Duchess. She made him happy. She had 
plenty of conversation, had her mind stored with 
gossip, and though old, oldened gracefully and 
pleasantly. Her bitter enemy — an old servant and 
confidant, who furnished the materials for the " Au- 
thentic Detail," says, " Contrarily gifted and disposed, 
they were frequently on discordant terms, but she 
had a strong hold on his mind." 

On September 23, 1773, the Duke died. The 
Duchess had anticipated his death. He had already 
made his will, bequeathing to her the entire income 
of his estates during her life, subject to the proviso 



THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 43 

that she remained in a state of widowhood. This 
did not at all please the Duchess, and directly she 
saw that her husband was dying she sent for a soli- 
citor, a Mr. Field, to draw up a new will, omitting 
the obnoxious proviso ; she was only by two years 
on the right side of fifty, and might marry again. 
When Mr. Field was introduced to the Duke, he saw 
that the dying man was not in a mental condition 
capable of executing a will, and he refused to have 
anything to do with an attempt to extort his signa- 
ture from him. The Duchess was very angry ; but 
the refusal of Mr. Field was most fortunate for her, 
as, had the will proposed been executed, it would 
most indubitably have been set aside. 

I As soon as the Duke was dead the dowager Duchess 
determined to enjoy life. She had a pleasure yacht 
built, placed in command of it an officer who had 
served in the navy, fitted it up with every luxury, 
sailed for Italy, and visited Rome, where the Pope 
and the cardinals received her with great courtesy. 
Indeed, she was given up one of the palaces of the 
cardinals for her residence. Whilst she was amusing 
herself in Italy something happened in England that 
was destined to materially spoil her happiness. Anne 
Craddock was still alive, the sole witness of her 
marriage that survived. She was in bad circum- 
stances, and applied to Mr. Field for pecuniary relief. 
He refused it, but the Duchess sent to offer her 
twenty guineas per annum. This Anne Craddock 
refused, and gave intimation to Mr. Evelyn Meadows 
that she had information of importance which she 
could divulge. 



44 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

When Mr. Meadows heard what Anne Craddock 
had to say, he set the machinery of the law in motion 
to obtain the prosecution of the Duchess, in the 
hopes of convicting her of bigamy, and then of up- 
setting the will of the late Duke in her favour. A 
bill of indictment for bigamy was preferred against 
her ; the bill was found, Mr. Field had notice of the 
procedure, and the Duchess was advised to return 
instantly to England and appear to the indictment, 
to prevent an outlawry. 

At this time — that is, in 1775 — the Earl of Bristol 
died without issue, and Augustus John, her first 
husband, succeeded to the title. 

The anxieties of the Duchess were not confined to 
the probable issue of the trial. Samuel Foote, the 
comedian, took a despicable advantage of her situa- 
tion to attempt to extort money from her. He wrote 
a farce, entitled " A Trip to Calais," in which he in- 
troduced her Grace under the sobriquet of Lady 
Kitty Crocodile, and stuffed the piece with particulars, 
relative to the private history of the Duchess, which 
he had obtained from Miss Penrose, a young lady 
who had been about her person for many years. 
When the piece was finished, he contrived to have it 
communicated to her Grace that the Haymarket 
Theatre would open with the entertainment in which 
she was held up to ridicule and scorn. She was 
alarmed, and sent for Foote. He attended with the 
piece in his pocket. She desired him to read a part 
of it. He obeyed ; and had not read far before she 
could no longer control herself, but, starting up in a 
rage, exclaimed, " This is scandalous, Mr. Foote 1 



THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 45 

Why, what a wretch you have made me ! " After a 
few turns round the room, she composed herself to 
inquire on what terms he would suppress the play. 
Foote had the effrontery to demand two thousand 
pounds. She offered him fourteen, then sixteen hun- 
dred pounds ; but he, grasping at too much, lost all. 
She consulted the Duke of Newcastle, and the Lord 
Chamberlain was apprised of the circumstances, and 
his interference solicited. He sent for the manuscript 
copy of the " Trip to Calais," perused, and censured 
it. In the event of its publication she threatened to 
prosecute Foote for libel. Public opinion ranged itself 
on the side of the Duchess, and Dr. Schomberg only ex- 
pressed its opinion when he said that " Foote deserved 
to be run through the body for such an attempt. It was 
more ignoble than the conduct of a highwayman." 

(On April 17, 1776, the trial of the Duchess came 
on in Westminster Hall, and lasted five days. The 
principal object argued was the admission, or not, of 
a sentence of the Spiritual Court, in a suit for jactita- 
tion of marriage, in an indictment for polygamy. As 
the judges decided against the admission of such a 
sentence in bar to evidence, the fact of the two mar- 
riages was most clearly proved, and a conviction of 
course followed. The Duchess was tried by the 
Peers, a hundred and nineteen of whom sat and 
passed judgment upon her, all declaring " Guilty, 
upon mine honour," except the Duke of Newcastle, 
who pronounced " Guilty, erroneously ; but not in- 
tentionally, upon mine honour." 

No sooner did the Duchess see that her cause was 
lost than she determined to escape out of England. 



46 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

The penalty for bigamy was death, but she could 
escape this sentence by claiming the benefits of the 
statute 3 and 4 William and Mary, which left her in 
a condition to be burnt in the hand, or imprisoned ; 
but she claimed the benefit of the peerage, and the 
Lord Chief Baron, having conferred with the rest of 
the judges, delivered their unanimous opinion that 
she ought "to be immediately discharged." How- 
ever, her prosecutors prepared a writ " ne exeat 
regno," to obtain her arrest and the deprivation of 
her personal property. To escape this she fled to 
Dover, where her yacht was in waiting, and crossed 
to Calais, whilst amusing the public and her prosecu- 
tors by issuing invitations to a dinner at Kingston 
House, and causing her carriage to appear in the 
most fashionable quarters of the town. Mr. Meadows 
had carried his first point ; she could no longer call 
herself Dowager Duchess of Kingston in England, 
but she was reinstated in her position of wife to 
Augustus John Hervey, and was therefore now 
Countess of Bristol. Mr. Meadows next proceeded 
to attack the will of the late Duke, but in this at- 
tempt he utterly failed. The will was confirmed, 
and Elizabeth, Countess of Bristol, was acknowledged 
as lawfully possessed of life interest in the property 
of the Duke so long as she remained unmarried. 
Mr. Meadows was completely ruined, and his sole 
gain was to keep the unhappy woman an exile from 
England. 

Abroad the Countess was still received as Duchess 
of Kingston. She lived in considerable state, and 
visited Italy, Russia, and France. Her visit to St. 



THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 47 

Petersburg was splendid, and to ensure a favourable 
reception by the Empress Catharine she sent her a 
present of some of the valuable paintings by old 
masters from Kingston House. When in Russia she 
purchased an estate near the capital, to which she 
gave the name of Chudleigh, and which cost her 
25,ooo£. 1 The Empress also gave her a property on 
the Neva. She had a corvette built of mahogany 
which was to be a present to the Empress, but the ves- 
sel stranded on the coast of Ingermanland. Eight of 
the cannons out of her are now at Chudleigh, almost 
the only things there that recall the Duchess. She 
gave magnificent entertainments ; at one of these, to 
which the Empress was invited, a hundred and forty 
of her own servants attended in the Kingston livery 
of black turned up with red and silver. 
\ On her return from Russia she bought an estate at 
Montmartre, which cost her 9,000/., and another that 
belonged to one of the French royal princes at Saint 
Assise, which cost her 55,000/. The chateau was so 
large that three hundred beds could be made up in it. 
*She was getting on in years, but did not lose her 
energy, her vivacity, and her selfishness. Once in 
Rome, the story goes, she had been invited to visit 
some tombs that were famous. She replied with a 
touch of real feeling : " Ce n'est pas la peine de 
chercher des tombeaux, on en porte assez dans son 
cceur." 

1 This place still bears the name. It is on the main road 
through Livland and Esthonia to St. Petersburg ; about twenty 
miles from Narwa. It also goes by the name of Fockenhof. 
The present mansion is more modern, and belongs to the family 
of Von Wilcken. 



4 8 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

The account of her death shall be given in the 
words of the author of " Authentic Detail." 

"She was at dinner, when her servants received in- 
telligence of a sentence respecting the house near 
Paris having been awarded against her. She flew 
into a violent passion, and, in the agitation of 
her mind and body, burst an internal blood-vessel. 
Even this she appeared to have surmounted, until a 
few days afterwards, on the morning of the 26th 
August (1788), when about to rise from her bed, a 
servant who had long been with her endeavoured at 
dissuasion. The Duchess addressed her thus: 'I am 
not very well, but I will rise. At your peril disobey 
me ; I will get up and walk about the room. Ring 
for the secretary to assist me.' She was obeyed, 
dressed, and the secretary entered the chamber. The 
Duchess then walked about, complained of thirst, 
and said, ' I could drink a glass of my fine Madeira 
and eat a slice of toasted bread ; I shall be quite well 
afterwards ; but let it be a large glass of wine.' The 
attendant reluctantly brought and the Duchess drank 
the wine. She then said, ' I knew the Madeira would 
do me good. My heart feels oddly ; I will have 
another glass.' She then walked a little about the 
room, and afterwards said, 'I will lie on the couch.' 
She sat on the couch, a female having hold of each 
hand. In this situation she soon appeared to have 
fallen into a profound sleep, until the women found 
her hands colder than ordinary ; other domestics 
were rung for, and the Duchess was found to have 
expired, as the wearied labourer sinks into the arms 
of rest." 



THE DUCHESS OF KINGSTON. 49 

Was it a touch of final malice or of real regret that 
caused the old lady, by codicil to her will dated May 
10, 1787, to leave pearl earrings and necklace to the 
Marquise de la Touche ? Was it a token that she 
forgave her the cruel book, " Les aventures trop 
amoureuses ; ou, Elizabeth Chudleigh," which she 
wrote, or caused to be written, for the blackening of 
her rival, and the whitewashing of herself? Let us 
hope it was so. The proviso in the Duke's will saved 
her from herself; but for that she would have married 
an adventurer who called himself the Chevalier de 
Wortha, a man who obtained great influence over 
her, and finally died by his own hand. 

Elizabeth Chudleigh's character and career have 
never been sketched by friends ; her enemies, those 
jealous of her fascinations, angry at her success, dis- 
contented with not having been sufficiently considered 
in her will, have given us their impressions of hen 
have poured out all the evil they knew and imagined 
of her. She has been hardly used. The only per- 
fectly reliable authority for her history is the report 
of her trial, and that covers only one portion of her 
story. The "Authentic Detail" published by G. 
Kearsley, London, in 1788, is anonymous. It is 
fairly reliable, but tinctured by animosity. The book 
" Les Aventures trop Amoureuses, ou, Elizabeth 
Chudleigh, ex-duchesse douairiere de Kingston, 
aujourd'hui Comtesse de Bristol, et la Marquise de la 
Touche. Londres, aux depens des Interessez, 1776," 
was composed for the justification of Madame de la 
Touche, and with all the venom of a discomfited and 
supplanted rival. 



50 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

An utterly worthless book, " Histoire de la vie et 
des Aventures de la Duchesse de Kingston, a 
Londres, et se trouve a Paris, Chez Quillot, 1789," is 
fiction. It pretends to be based on family papers. 
At the commencement it gives a portion of the diary 
of Col. Thomas Chudleigh, in which, among other 
impossibilities, he records his having reduced the 
rents of his tenants on his estates twenty per cent, 
because the year was bad. As it happened, Col. 
Thomas Chudleigh neither possessed an acre of land, 
nor a tenant. 

In 181 3 appeared "La Duchesse de Kingston, 
memoires redige's par M. de Favolle," in two volumes ; 
this is based solely on the preceding with rich addi- 
tions from the imagination of the author. Not a 
statement in it can be trusted. 

Some little reliable information may be found in 
the " Memoires de la Baronne d'Oberkirch," Paris 
1853- 



(Seneral flDallet 

On the return of Napoleon to Paris from Moscow, he 
was depressed with news that troubled him more than 
the loss of his legions. The news that had reached 
him related to perhaps the most extraordinary con- 
spiracy that was ever devised, and which was within 
an ace of complete success. It was the news of this 
conspiracy that induced him to desert the army in 
the snows of Russia and hasten to Paris. The 
thoughts of this conspiracy frustrated by an accident, 
as Alison says, " incessantly occupied his mind during 
his long and solitary journey." 

" Gentlemen," said Napoleon, when the report of 
the conspiracy was read over to him, " we must no 
longer disbelieve in miracles." 

Claude Francois Mallet belonged to a noble family 
in the Franche Comte. He was born on June 28th, 
1754, at Dole, and passed his early life in the army, 
where he commanded one of the first battalions of 
the Jura at the commencement of the Revolution. 
In May 1793, he was elevated to the rank of adjutant- 
General, and in August 1799, made General of 
Brigade, and commanded a division under Cham- 
pionnet. He was a man of enthusiastically Re- 
publican views, and viewed the progress of Napoleon 
with dissatisfaction mingled with envy. There can 
be no question as to what his opinions were at first; 



52 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

whether he changed them afterwards is not so certain. 
He was a reserved, hard, and bitter man, ambitious 
and restless. Envy of Napoleon, jealousy of his. 
success seems to have been the ruling motive in his. 
heart that made of him a conspirator, and not 
genuine disgust at Csesarism. 

Bonaparte knew his political opinions ; and though 
he did not fear the man, he did not trust him. He- 
became implicated in some illegal exactions at Civita 
Vecchia, in the Roman States, and was in conse- 
quence deprived of his command, and sent before a 
commission of enquiry at Paris, in July 1807 ; and, in 
virtue of their sentence, he was confined for a short 
while, and then again set at liberty and reinstated. 
In 1808, when the war in the Peninsula broke out, 
Mallet entered at Dijon into a plot, along with some 
old anarchists, for the overthrow of the Emperor,, 
among them the ex-General Guillaume, who betrayed 
the plot, and Mallet was arrested and imprisoned in 
La Force. Napoleon did not care that conspiracies, 
against himself and his throne should be made public, 
and consequently he contented himself with the de- 
tention of Mallet alone. 

In prison, the General did not abandon his schemes, 
and he had the lack of prudence to commit them to 
paper. This fell into the hands of the Government. 
The minister regarded the scheme as chimerical and 
unimportant. The papers were shown to Napoleon,, 
who apparently regarded the scheme or the man as. 
really dangerous, and ordered him to perpetual 
detention in prison. 

Time passed, and Mallet and his schemes were for- 



GENERAL MALLET. 53 

gotten. Who could suppose that a solitary prisoner, 
without means, without the opportunity of making 
confederates, could menace the safety of the Empire ? 

Then came the Russian campaign, in 18 12. 
Mallet saw what Napoleon did not ; the inevitable 
failure that must attend it ; and he immediately 
renewed his attempts to form a plot against the 
Emperor. 

But the prison of La Force was bad headquarters 
from which to work. He pretended to be ill, and he 
was removed to a hospital, that of the Doctor 
Belhomme near the Barriere du Trone. In this 
house were the two brothers Polignac, a M. de 
Puyvert, and the Abbe Lafon, who in 18 14 wrote 
and published an account of this conspiracy of Mallet. 
These men were Royalists, and Mallet was a Re- 
publican. It did not matter so long as Napoleon 
could be overthrown, how divergent their views might 
be as to what form of Government was to take the 
place of the Empire. 

They came to discussion, and the Royalists sup- 
posed that they had succeeded in convincing Mallet. 
He, on his side, was content to dissemble his real 
views, and to make use of these men as his agents. 

The Polignac brothers were uneasy, they were 
afraid of the consequences, and they mistrusted the 
man who tried to draw them into his plot. Perhaps, 
also, they considered his scheme too daring to succeed. 
Accordingly they withdrew from the hospital, to be 
out of his reach. It was not so with the others. The 
Polignacs had been mixed up in the enterprise of 
Georges, and had no wish to be again involved. 



54 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

Whether there were many others in the plot we do 
not know, Lafon names only four, and it does not 
seem that M. de Puyvert took a very active part in it. 

Mallet's new scheme was identical with the old one 
that had been taken from him and shown to Napoleon. 
Napoleon had recognized its daring and ability, and 
had not despised it. That no further fear of Mallet 
was entertained is clear, or he would never have been 
transferred from the prison to a private hospital, 
where he would be under very little supervision. 

In his hospital, Mallet drew up the following 
report of a Session of the Senate, imagined by him- 
self: 

" Senat Conservateur 

"Session of 22 October, 181 2. 

"The Session was opened at 8 P.M., under the presidency of 
Senator Sieyes. 

" The occasion of this extraordinary Session was the receipt 
of the news of the death of the Emperor Napoleon, under the 
walls of Moscow, on the 8th of the month. 

" The Senate, after mature consideration of the condition of 
affairs caused by this event, named a Commission to con- 
sider the danger of the situation, and to arrange for the main- 
tenance of Government and order. After having received the 
report of this Commission, the following orders were passed by 
the Senate. 

" That as the Imperial Government has failed to satisfy the 
aspirations of the French people, and secure peace, it be decreed 
annulled forthwith. 

" That all such officers military and civil as shall use their 
authority prejudicially to the re-establishment of the Republic, 
shall be declared outlawed. 

" That a Provisional Government be established, to consist 
of 13 members : — Moreau, President ; Carnot, Vice-President ; 
General Augereau, Bigonet, Destutt-Tracy, Florent Guyot, 
Frochot ; Mathieu Montmorency, General Mallet, Noailles, 
Truguet ; Volney, Garat. 



GENERAL MALLET. 55 

" That this Provisional Government be required to watch 
over the internal and external safety of the State, and to enter into 
negociations with the military powers for the re-establishment 
of peace. 

" That a constitution shall be drawn up and submitted to the 
General Assembly of the French realm. 

" That the National Guard be reconstituted as formerly. 

"That a general Amnesty be proclaimed for all political 
offences.; that all emigrants, exiles, be permitted to return. 

" That the freedom of the Press be restored. 

"That the command of the army of the Centre, and which 
consists of 50,000 men, and is stationed near Paris, be given to 
General Lecombe. 

"That General Mallet replaces General Hulin as com- 
mandant of Paris, and in the first division. He will have the 
right to nominate the officers in the general staff that will 
surround him." 

There were many other orders, 19 in all, but these 

will suffice to indicate the tendency of the document. 

It was signed by the President and his Secretaries. 

President, SlEYES. 
Secretaries, LANJUINAIS, et GREGOIRE. 

"Approved, and compared with a similar paper in my own 
hands, 

Signed, Mallet, 
General of Division, Commandant of the main army of 
Paris, and of the forces of the First Division." 

This document, which was designed to be shown to 
the troops, to the officers and officials, was drawn up 
in a form so close to the genuine form, and the signa- 
tures and seals were so accurately imitated, that the 
document was not likely at the first glance to excite 
mistrust. 

Moreover, Mallet had drawn up an order for the 
day, and a proclamation, which was printed in many 
thousand copies. 



56 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

On the 22nd October, 18 12, at 10 o'clock at night, 
after he had been playing cards with great composure 
in the hospital, Mallet made his escape, along with 
four others, one was the Abbe Lafon, another a cor- 
poral named Rateau, whom he had named as his 
aide-de-camp. Mallet had just twelve francs in his 
pocket, and so furnished he embarked on his under- 
taking to upset the throne of the Emperor. He at 
once went to a Spanish monk, whose acquaintance 
he had made in prison ; and in his rooms found his 
general's uniform which had been brought there by 
a woman the evening before. Uniforms and swords 
for his confederates were also ready. But it rained 
that night — it rained in torrents, and the streets of 
Paris ran with water. It has been remarked that rain 
in Paris has a very sobering effect on political agita- 
tions, and acts even better than bayonets in prevent- 
ing a disturbance of the public peace. 

Mallet and his confederates could not leave their 
shelter till after midnight, and some of them did not 
appear at the place of rendezvous till 6 o'clock in the 
morning. Indisputably this had much to do with the 
defeat of the plot. 

The success of the undertaking depended on dark- 
ness, on the sudden bewilderment of minds, and the 
paralysis of the government through the assassin- 
ation of some of the ministers. About 2 A.M. Mallet 
appeared in his general's uniform, attended by some 
of his confederates also in uniform, at the Popincour 
barracks, and demanded to see the Commandant 
Soulier at once, giving his name as Lamothe. Soulier 
was in bed asleep. He was also unwell. He was 



GENERAL MALLET. 57 

roused from his slumbers, hastily dressed himself, and 
received a sealed letter, which he broke open, and 
read : 

■"To the General of Division, Commandant-in-Chief of the troops 
under arms in Paris, and the troops of the First Division, 
Soulier, Commandant of the 10th Cohort." 

" General Headquarters, 
" Place Vendome. 
" 2377/ Oct., 1812, 10 o'clock a.m. 

•" M. LE Commandant, — I have given orders to the General 
Lamothe with a police commissioner to attend at your barracks, 
and to read before you and your Cohort the decree of the 
senate consequent on the receipt of the news of the death of the 
Emperor, and the cessation of the Imperial Government. The 
said general will communicate to you the Order for the Day, 
which you will be pleased to further to the General of Brigade. 
You are required to get the troops under arms with all possible 
despatch and quietness. By daybreak, the officers who are in 
barracks will be sent to the Place de Greve, there to await 
their companies, which will there assemble, after the instructions 
which General Lamothe will furnish have been carried out." 

Then ensued a series of dispositions for the troops, 
and the whole was signed by Mallet. 

When Soulier had read this letter, Mallet, who pre- 
tended to be General Lamothe, handed him the 
document already given, relating to the assembly of 
the Senate, and its decisions. Then he gave him the 
Order for the Day, for the 23rd and 24th October. 

Colonel Soulier, raised from sleep, out of health, 
bewildered, did not for a moment mistrust the 
messenger, or the documents handed to him. He 
hastened at once to put in execution the orders he 
had received. 

The same proceedings were gone through in the 



58 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

barracks of Les Minimes, and of Picpus ; the decree 
of the Senate, the Order of the Day, and a Proclama- 
tion, were read by torchlight. 

Everywhere the same success. The officers had 
not the smallest doubt as to thp authenticity of the 
papers presented to them. Everywhere also the Pro- 
clamation announcing the death of the Emperor, the 
cessation of the Empire, and the establishment of the 
Provisional Government was being placarded about. 

At 6 A.M., at the head of a troop, Mallet, still act- 
ing as General Lamothe, marched before the prison 
of La Force, and the Governor was ordered to open 
the gates. The Decree of the Senate and the Order 
of 'the Day were read to him, and he was required at 
once to discharge three state prisoners he held, 
General Guidal, Lahorie, and a Corsican, Bocchejampe,, 
together with certain officers there confined. He did 
as required, and Mallet separated his troops into four 
detachments, keeping one under his own command, 
and placing the others under the orders of Guidal, 
Lahorie and Bocchejampe. 

Guidal and Lahorie, by his orders, now marched to 
the Ministry of Police, where they arrested Savary, 
Duke of Rovigo, Minister of Police. At the same 
time Boutreux, another confederate, had gone to the 
prefecture of the Paris police, had arrested the prefect, 
Pasquier, and sent him to be confined in La Force; 

Mallet, now at the head of 150 men, went to the 
Etat-Major de-la-place, to go through the same farce 
with the Commandant-de-place, and get him to sub- 
scribe the Order for the Day. Count Hullin refused. 
Mallet presented a pistol at his head, fired, and 



GENERAL MALLET. 59 

Hullin fell covered with blood to the ground. Mallet 
left him for dead, but fortunately only his jaw was 
broken. By means of a forged order addressed to 
the commandant of one of the regiments of the paid 
guard of Paris, he occupied the National Bank, in 
which, at the time, there was a considerable treasure 
in specie. 

The Etat-Major of Paris was a post of the highest 
importance, as it was the headquarters of the whole 
military authority in Paris. Before Mallet approached 
it, he sent a packet to the Adjutant-General Doucet, 
of a similar tenor to that given to Soulier and the 
other colonels, and containing his nomination as 
general of brigade, and a treasury order for a hundred 
thousand francs. 

Soulier, Colonel of the 10th Cohort, obeying the 
orders he had received, the authenticity of which he 
did not for a moment dispute, had in the meantime 
made himself master of the H6tel-de-Ville, and had 
stationed a strong force in the square before the 
building. Frochot, Prefect of the Seine, was riding 
into Paris from his country house at half-past eight 
in the morning, when he was met by his servants, in 
great excitement, with a note from Mallet, on the 
outside of which were written the ominous words 
" Fuit Imperator." Now it so happened that no tid- 
ings of the Emperor had been received for twenty-five 
days, and much uneasiness was felt concerning him. 
When Frochot therefore received this notice, he be- 
lieved it, and hurried to the H6tel-de-Ville. There 
he received a despatch from Mallet, under the title of 
Governor of Paris, ordering him to make ready the 



60 HISTORIC ODDITIES, 

principal apartment in the building for the use of the 
Provisional Government Not for a moment did 
Frochot remember that — even if the Emperor were 
dead, there was the young Napoleon, to whom his 
allegiance was due ; he at once obeyed the orders he 
had received, and began to make the Hotel ready for 
the meeting of the Provisional Government. After- 
wards when he was reminded that there was a son to 
Napoleon, and that his duty was to support him, 
Frochot answered, "Ah ! I forgot that. I was dis- 
tracted with the news." 

By means of the forged orders despatched every- 
where, all the barriers of Paris had been seized and 
were closed, and positive orders were issued that no 
one was to be allowed to enter or leave Paris. 

Mallet now drew up before the Etat-Major-Ge'ne'ral, 
still accompanied and obeyed by the officer and de- 
tachment. Nothing was wanting now but the com- 
mand of the adjutant-general's office to give to Mallet 
the entire direction of the military force of Paris, with 
command of the^elegrapjij and with it of all France. 
With that, and with the treasury already seized, he 
would be master of the situation. In another ten 
minutes Paris would be in his hand, and with Paris 
the whole of France. 

An accident — an accident only — at that moment 
saved the throne of Napoleon. Doucet was a little 
suspicious about the orders — or allowed it afterwards 
to be supposed that he was. He read them, and 
stood in perplexity. He would have put what doubts 
presented themselves aside, had it not been for his 
aide-de-camp, Laborde. It happened that Laborde 




K 



GENERAL MALLET. 61 

had had charge of Mallet in La Force, and had seen 
him there quite recently. He came down to enter 
the room where was Doucet, standing in doubt before 
Mallet. Mallet's guard was before the door, and 
would have prevented him from entering ; however, 
he peremptorily called to them to suffer him to pass, 
and the men, accustomed to obey his voice, allowed 
him to enter. The moment he saw Mallet in his 
general's uniform, he recognised him and said, " But 
-Vhow the devil ! — That is my prisoner. How came 
he to escape?'' Doucet still hesitated, and attempted 
to explain, when Laborde cut his superior officer short 
with, " There is something wrong here. Arrest the 
fellow, and I will go at once to the minister of police." 
_^ Mallet put his hand in his pocket to draw out the 
pistol with which he had shot Hullin, when the 
gesture was observed in a mirror opposite, and be- 
fore he had time to draw and cock the pistol, Doucet 
and Laborde were on him, and had disarmed him. 

Laborde, with great promptitude, threw open the 

door, and announced to the soldiers the deceit that 
had been practised on them, and assured them that the 
tidings of the death of the Emperor were false. 

The arrest of Mallet disconcerted the whole con- 
spiracy. Had Generals Lahorie and Guidal been 
men of decision and resolution they might still have 
saved it, but this they were not ; though at the head 
of considerable bodies of men, the moment they saw 
that their chief had met with a hitch in carrying 
out his plan, they concluded that all was lost, and 
made the best of their way from their posts to places 
of concealment. 



62 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

It was not till 8 o'clock that Saulnier, General 
Secretary of Police., heard of the arrest and imprison- 
ment of his chief, Savary, Duke of Rovigo. He at 
once hastened to Cambafjeres, the President of the 
Ministry in the absence of the Emperor, and aston- 
ished and alarmed him with the tidings. Then Saul- 
nier hastened to Hullin, whom he found weltering in 
his blood, and unable to speak. 

Baron Pasquier, released from La Force, attempted 
to return to his prefecture. The soldiers posted be- 
fore it refused to admit him, and threatened to shoot 
him, believing that he had escaped from prison, and 
he was obliged to take refuge in an adjoining house. 
Laborde, who about noon came there, was arrested 
by the soldiers, and conducted by them as a prisoner 
to the Etat-Major-General, to deliver him over to 
General Mallet ; and it was with difficulty that they 
could be persuaded that they had been deceived, and 
that Mallet was himself, at that moment, in irons. 

Savary, released from La Force, had Mallet and 
the rest of the conspirators brought before him. 
Soulier also, for having given too ready a credence 
to the forged orders, was also placed under arrest, to 
be tried along with the organisers and carriers 
out of the plot. 
/ r W Mallet confessed with great composure that he had 
planned the whole, but he peremptorily refused to 
say whether he had aiders or sympathisers elsewhere. 

Lahorie could not deny that he had taken an active 
part, but declared that it was against his will, his 
whole intention being to make a run for the United 
States, there to spend the rest of his days in tranquillity. 



GENERAL MALLET. 6$ 

He asserted that he had really believed that the 
Emperor was dead. 

Guidal tried to pass the whole off as a joke ; but 
when he saw that he was being tried for his life, he 
became greatly and abjectly alarmed. 

/Next day the generals and those in the army who 
were under charge were brought before a military 
commission. Saulnier had an interesting interview 
with Mallet that day. He passed through the hall 
where Mallet was dining, when the prisoner com- 
plained that he was not allowed the use of a knife. 
Saulnier at once ordered that he might be permitted 
one ; and this consideration seems to have touched 
Mallet, for he spoke with more frankness to Saulnier 
than he did before his judges. When the General 
Secretary of Police asked him how he could dream of 
success attending such a mad enterprise, Mallet re- 
plied, "u had already three regiments of infantry on 
my side. Very shortly I would have been surrounded 
by the thousands who are weary of the Napoleonic 
yoke, and are longing for a change of order. Now, I 
was convinced that the moment the news of my 
success in Paris reached him, Napoleon would leave 
his army and fly home, I would have been prepared 
for him at Mayence, and have had him shot there. 
If it had not been for the cowardice of Guidal and 
Lahorie, my plot would have succeeded. I had 
resolved to collect 50,000 men at Chalons sur Marne 
to cover Paris. The promise I would have made to 
send all the conscripts to their homes, the moment 
the crisis was over, would have rallied all the soldiers 
to my side." 



64 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

( On October 23, the prisoners to the number of 
twenty-four were tried, and fourteen were condemned 
to be shot, among these, Mallet, Guidal, Lahorie, and 
the unfortunate Soulier. Mallet at the trial behaved 
with great intrepidity. "Who are your accomplices?"' 
asked the President. "The whole of France," answered 
Mallet, " and if I had succeeded, you yourself at their 
head. One who openly attacks a government by 
force, if he fails, expects to die." When he was asked 
to make his defence, " Monsieur," he said, " a man 
who has constituted himself defender of the rights of 
his Fatherland, needs no defence." 

Soulier put in as an apology, that the news of the 
death of the Emperor had produced such a sudorific 
effect on him, that he had been obliged to change his 
shirt four times in a quarter of an hour. This was 
not considered sufficient to establish his attachment 
to the Imperial government. 

In the afternoon of the same day the fourteen were 
conveyed to the plain of Grenelle to be shot, when 
pardon was accorded by the Empress Regent to two 
of the condemned, the Corporal Rateau, and Colonel 
Rabbe. When the procession passed through the 
Rue Grenelle, Mallet saw a group of students looking 
on ; " Young men," he called to them, " remember the 
23rd October." Arrived on the place of execution, 
some of the condemned cried out, "Vive l'empereur ! " 
only a few " Vive la Republique." 

\ Mallet requested that his eyes might not be 
bandaged, and maintained the utmost coolness. He 
received permission, at his own desire, to give the 
requisite orders to the soldiers drawn up to shoot him 



GENERAL MALLET. 65 

and his party. " Peloton ! Present ! " The soldiers, 
moved by the tragic catastrophe, obeyed, but not 
promptly. " That is bad ! " called Mallet, " imagine 
you are before the foe. Once again — Attention ! — 
Present ! " This time it was better. " Not so bad 
this time, but still not well," said the General ; " now 
pay attention, and mind, when I say Fire, that all 
your guns are discharged as one. It is a good lesson 
for you to see how brave men die. Now then, again, 
Attention ! " For a quarter of an hour he put the 
men through their drill, till he observed that his 
comrades were in the most deplorable condition. 
Some had fainted, some were in convulsions. Then 
he gave the command : Fire ! the guns rattled and 
the ten fell to the ground, never to rise again. 
Mallet alone reeled, for a moment or two maintaining 
his feet, and then he also fell over, without a sound, 
and was dead. 

\But for the singular accident," says Savary, "which 
caused the arrest of the Minister of War to fail, 
Mallet, in a few moments, would have been master of 
almost everything ; and in a country so much in- 
fluenced by the contagion of example, there is no 
saying where his success would have stopped. He 
would have had possession of the treasury, then 
extremely rich; the post office, the telegraph, and 
the command of the hundred cohorts of the National 
Guard. He would soon have learned the alarming 
situation in Russia ; and nothing could have prevented 
him from making prisoner of the Emperor himself if 
he returned alone, or from marching to meet him, if 
lie had come at the head of his shattered forces." 

E 



66 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

As Alison says, "When the news reached Napoleon, 
one only idea took possession of his imagination — 
that in this crisis the succession of his son was, by 
common consent, set aside ; one only truth was ever 
present to his mind — that the Imperial Crown rested 
on himself alone. The fatal truth was brought home 
to him that the Revolution had destroyed the founda- 
tions of hereditary succession ; and that the greatest 
achievements by him who wore the diadem afforded 
no security that it would descend to his progeny. 
These reflections, which seem to have burst on 
Napoleon all at once, when the news of this extra- 
ordinary affair reached him in Russia, weighed him 
down more than all the disasters of the Moscow 
retreat." 



Scbweinicben's Memoirs. 

/MEMOIRS, says Addison, in the Tatler, are so un- 
trustworthy, so stuffed with lies, that, " I do hereby 
give notice to all booksellers and translators whatso- 
ever, that the word memoir is French for a novel ; 
and to require of them, that they sell and translate it 
accordingly^' 

There are, however, some memoirs that are trust- 
worthy and dull, and others, again, that are con- 
spicuously trustworthy, and yet are as entertaining as 
a novel, and to this latter category belong the 
memoirs of Hans von Schweinichen, the Silesian 
Knight, Marshal and Chamberlain to the Dukes of 
Liegnitz and Brieg at the close of the 16th century. 
Scherr, a well known writer on German Culture, and 
a scrupulous observer and annotator of all that is 
ugly and unseemly in the past, says of the diary of 
Schweinichen : " It carries us into a noble family at 
the end of the 16th century and reveals boorish 
meanness, coarseness and lack of culture." That is, in 
a measure, true, but, as is invariably the case with 
Scherr, he leaves out of sight all the redeeming 
elements, and there are many, that this transparently 
sincere diarist discloses. 

The MS. was first discovered and published in 
1823, by Biisching ; it was republished in 1878 at 
Breslau by Oesterley. The diary extends to the 



63 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

year 1602, and Schweinichen begins with an account 
of his birth in 1552, and his childish years. But we 
are wrong in saying that he begins with his birth — 
characteristic of the protestant theological spirit of 
his times, he begins with a confession of his faith. 

As a picture of the manners and customs of the 
highest classes in the age just after the Reformation 
it is unrivalled for its minuteness, and for its interest. 
The writer, who had not an idea that his diary 
would be printed, wrote for his own amusement, and, 
without intending it, drew a perfect portraiture of 
himself, without exaggeration of his virtues and 
observation of his faults ; indeed the virtues we 
admire in him, he hardly recognised as virtues, and 
scarcely considered as serious the faults we deplore. 
In reading his truthful record we are angry with him, 
and yet, he makes us love and respect him, and 
acknowledge what sterling goodness, integrity, fidelity 
and honour were in the man. 

Hans was son of George, Knight of Schweinichen 
and Mertschutz, and was born in the Castle of 
Groditzberg belonging to the Dukes of Silesia, of 
which his father was castellan, and warden of the 
Ducal Estates thereabouts. The Schweinichens were 
a very ancient noble Silesian family, and Hans could 
prove his purity of blood through the sixteen de- 
scents, eight paternal and eight maternal. 

I n 1 559, Duke Frederick III. was summoned be- 
fore the Emperor Ferdinand I. at Breslau, to answer 
the accusations of extravagance and oppression 
brought against him by the Silesian Estates, and 
was deposed, imprisoned, and his son Henry XI. 



SCHWEINICHEN'S MEMOIRS. 69 

given the Ducal crown instead. The deposition of 
the Duke obliged the father of our hero to leave 
Groditzberg and retire to his own estates, where 
Hans was given the village notary as teacher in 
reading and writing for a couple of years, and was then 
sent, young noble though he was, to keep the geese 
for the family. However, as he played tricks with 
the geese, put spills into their beaks, pegging them 
open, the flock was then withdrawn from his charge. 
This reminds us of Grettir the Strong, the Icelandic 
hero, who also as a boy was sent to drive the family 
geese to pasture, and who maltreated his charge. 

His father sent Hans to be page to the imprisoned 
Duke Frederick at Liegnitz, where also he was to 
study with the Duke's younger son, afterwards 
Frederick IV. Hans tells us he did not get as many 
whippings as his companion, because he slipped his 
money-allowance into the tutor's palm, and so his 
delinquencies were passed over. As page, he had to 
serve the Duke at table. A certain measure of wine 
was allowed the imprisoned Duke daily by his son, 
the reigning Duke ; what he did not drink every day, 
;Hans was required to empty into a cask, and when 
the cask was full, the Duke invited some good topers 
to him, and they sat and drank the cask out, then 
rolled over on the floor. All night Hans had to sit 
or lie on the floor and watch the drunken Duke. 

Duke Frederick took a dislike to the chaplain, and 
scribbled a lampoon on him, which may be thus 
rendered, without injustice to the original : — 

" All the mischief ever done 

Twixt the old Duke and his son, 



70 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

Comes from that curs't snuffy one 
Franconian Parson Cut-and-run." 

The Duke ordered Hans to pin this to the pulpit 
cushion, and he did so. When the pastor ascended 
the pulpit he saw the paper, and instead of a text 
read it out. The reigning Duke Henry was very 
angry, and Hans was made the scape-goat, and sent 
home in disgrace to his father. 

In 1564, Hans attended his father, himself as page, 
his father as Marshal, when Duke Henry and his 
Duchess visited Stuttgard and Dresden. Pages were 
not then allowed to sit astride a horse, they stood in a 
sort of stirrup slung to the pommel, to which they 
held. At Dresden old Schweinichen ran a tilt in a 
tournament with the elector Augustus and unhorsed 
him, but had sufficient courtesy to at once throw him- 
self off his own horse, as though he also had been cast 
by the elector. This so gratified the latter, that he 
sent old Schweinichen a gold chain, and a double 
florin worth about 4 shillings to the young one. 

When Hans was fifteen, he went to the marriage of 
Duke Wenceslas of Teschen with the daughter of 
Duke Franz of Saxony, and received from his father 
a present of a sword, which, he tells us, cost his father 
a little under a pound. One of the interesting 
features of this diary is that Hans enters the value of 
everything. For instance, we are given the price of 
wheat, barley, rye, oats, meat, &c, in 1562, and we 
I learn from this that all kinds of grain cost one fifth or 
'■. one sixth of what it costs now, and that meat — 
mutton, was one eighteenth or one twentieth the 
present cost. For a thaler, 3 shillings, in 1562 as 



SCHWEINICHEN'S MEMOIRS. 71 

/ much food could be purchased as would now cost 
from 25 to 30 shillings. Hans tells us what pocket 
money he received from his parents; he put a value 
on every present he was given, and tells what every- 
thing cost him which he give away. 

^In the early spring of 1569 Duke Henry XL went to 
Lublin in Poland to a diet. King Sigismund was 
old, and the Duke hoped to get elected to the king- 
dom of Poland on his death. This was a costly ex- 
pedition, as the Duke had to make many presents, 
and to go in great state. Hans went with him, and 
gives an infinitely droll account of their reception, the 
miserable housing, his own dress, one leg black, the 
other yellow, and how many ells of ribbon went to 
make the bows on his jacket. His father and he, and 
a nobleman called Zedlitz and his son were put in a 
garret under the tiles in bitter frost — and " faith," says 
Hans, " our pigs at home are warmer in their styes." 

This expedition which led to no such result as the 
Duke hoped, exhausted his treasury, and exasperated 
the Silesian Estates. All the nobles had to stand 
surety for their Duke, Schweinichen and the rest to 
the amount of — in modern money ;£ 100,000. 

\When Hans was aged eighteen he was drunk for 
the first time in his life, so drunk that he lay like a 
dead man for two days and two nights, and his life 
was in danger. 

Portia characterised the German as a drunkard, she 
liked him " very vilely in the morning, when he is 
sober ; and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is 
drunk.\ Set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the con- 
trary casket : for, if the devil be within, and that 



72 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

temptation without, I know he will choose it. I will do 
anything, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a sponge?' 
*\ How true this characterisation was of the old Ger- 
man noble, Schweinichen's memoirs show ; it is a 
record of drunken bouts at small intervals. There 
was no escape, he who would live at court must drink 
and get drunken. 

At the age of nineteen old Schweinichen made his 
son keep the accounts at home, and look after the 
mill ; he had the charge of the fish-ponds, and at- 
tended to the thrashing of the corn, and the feeding 
of the horses and cattle. 

Once Hans was invited to a wedding, and met at it 

four sisters from Glogau, two were widows and two 

unmarried. Their maiden name was Von Schaben. 

Hans, aged twenty, danced with the youngest a good 

deal, and before leaving invited the four sisters to 

pay his father and him a visit. A friend of his called 

Eicholz galloped ahead to forewarn old Schweinichen. 

Some hours later up drove Hans in- a waggon with 

the four sisters ; but he did not dare to bring them in 

till he had seen his father, so he went into the house, 

and was at once saluted with a burst of laughter, and 

the shout, ' ; Here comes the bridegroom," and Eicholz 

sang at the top of his voice an improvised verse : 

" Rosie von Schaben 
Hans er will haben." 

" Where are the ladies ? " asked the old knieht. 
" In the waggon outside," answered Hans. 
"Send for the fiddlers, bring them in. We will 
eat, drink, dance and be merry," said the old man. 
But Hans was offended at being boisterously saluted 



SCHWEINICHElSrS MEMOIRS. 73 

as bridegroom, and he now kept Rosie at a distance. 
Somewhat later, the Duke tried to get him to marry 
a charming young heiress called Hese von Promnitz, 
and very amusing is Hans' account of how he kept 
himself clear of engagement. When he first met 
her at court she was aged fourteen, and was passion- 
ately fond of sugar. Hans says he spent as much as 
/&3 in our modern money on sweets for her, but he 
would make no proposal, because, as he concluded, 
she was too young to be able " to cook a bowl of 
soup." Two years passed, and then an old fellow 
called Geisler, " looking more like a Jew than a 
gentleman," who offered Hese a box of sweets every 
day, proposed for her. Hese would not answer till 
she knew the intentions of Hans, and she frankly 
asked him whether he meant to propose for her hand 
or not. " My heart's best love, Hese," answered 
Schweinichen, " at the right time, and when God wills 
I shall marry, but I do not think I can do that for 
three years. So follow your own desires, take the 
old Jew, or wait, as you like." 

I Hese said she would wait any number of years for 
Hans. This made Hans the colder. The Duke 
determined that the matter should be settled one way 
or other at once, so he sent a crown of gold roses to 
Hans, and said it was to be Hese's bridal wreath, if he 
desired that she should wear it for him, he was to lay 
hold of it ; Hans thereupon put his hands behind his 
back. Then he went to his Schweinichen coat-of- 
arms and painted under it the motto, " I bide my 
time, when the old man dies, I'll get the prize." 
This Geisler read, and — says Hans, didn't like. 



74 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

Hans was now installed as gentleman-in-waiting 
to the Duke, and was henceforth always about his 
person. He got for his service free bed and board, a 
gala coat that cost in our modern money about £36, 
and an every day livery costing ^"18. His father 
made him a small allowance, but pay in addition to 
liveries and keep he got none. The Duke's great 
amusement consisted in mumming. For a whole 
year he rambled about every evening in masquerade, 
dropping in on the burghers unexpectedly. Some 
were, we are told, pleased to see and entertain him, 
others objected to these impromptu visits. The 
special costume in which the Duke delighted to run 
about the town making these visits was that of a 
Nun. Hans admits that this was very distasteful to 
him, but he could not help himself, he was obliged to 
accommodate himself to the whims of his master. 
He made an effort to free himself from the service of 
the Duke, so as to go out of the country to some 
other court — he felt intuitively that this association 
would be fatal to his best interests, but the Duke at 
once took him by his better side, pleaded with him to 
remain and be faithful to him, his proper master and 
sovereign, andHans with misgivings at heart consented. 

There was at Court an old lady, Frau von Kittlitz, 
who acted as stewardess, and exercised great influ- 
ence over the Duke, whom she had known from a 
boy. The Duchess resented her managing ways, and 
interference, and was jealous of her influence. One 
day in 1575 she refused to come down from her room 
and dine with the Duke unless the old Kittlitz were 
sent to sit at the table below the dais. This led to 



SCHWEINlCHElSrS MEMOIRS. 75 

words and hot blood on both sides. The Duchess 
used a gross expression in reference to the steward- 
ess, and the Duke who had already some wine under 
his belt, struck the Duchess in the face, saying, " I'll 
teach you not to call people names they do not de- 
serve." Hans, who was present, threw himself be- 
tween the angry couple ; the Duke stormed and struck 
about. Hans entreated the Duchess to retire, and 
then he stood in her door and prevented the Duke 
following, though he shouted, " She is my wife, I can 
serve her as I like. Who are you to poke yourself in 
between married folk ? " 

i As soon as the Duchess had locked herself in, 
Hans escaped and fled ; but an hour after the Duke 
sent for him, and stormed at him again for his 
meddlesomeness. Hans entreated the Duke to be 
quiet and get reconciled to the Duchess, but he would 
not hear of it, and dismissed Schweinichen. A 
quarter of an hour later another messenger came 
from his master, and Hans returned to him, to find 
him in a better mood. "Hans," said his Highness, 
'9 try if you can't get my wife to come round and 
come down to table — all fun is at an end with this." 

| Hans went up and was admitted. The Duchess, in 
a towering rage, had already written a letter to her 
brother the Margrave of Anspach, telling him how 
her husband had struck her in the face and given her 
a black eye, and she had already dispatched a mes- 
senger with the letter. After much arguing, Hans 
wrung from her her consent to come down, on two 
conditions, one that the Duke should visit her at 
once and beg her pardon, the other that the old 



76 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

Kittlitz should sit at the table with the pages. The 
Duke was now in a yielding mood and ate his leek 
humbly. The Duchess consented to tell the Court 
that she had got her black eye from striking her face 
against a lamp, and the Duke ordered ten trumpeters 
and a kettledrum to make all the noise they could to 
celebrate the reconciliation. 

\ The Duchess in an aside to Schweinichen admitted 
that she had been rash and unjust, and regretted 
having sent off that letter. An unlucky letter — says 
our author — for it cost the duchy untold gold and 
years of trouble. 

The Duke had made several visits to Poland, 
chasing that Jack o' lantern — the Polish crown, and it 
had cost him so much money that he had quarrelled 
with his Estates, bullied and oppressed his subjects 
to extort money, and at last the Estates appealed to 
the Emperor against him, as they had against his 
father ; and the Emperor summoned him to Prague. 
The Duke had great difficulty in scraping together 
money enough to convey him so far ; and on reaching 
Prague, he begged permission of the Kaiser to be 
allowed to visit the Electors and the Free Cities, and see 
whether he could not obtain from them some relief 
from his embarrassments, and money wherewith to 
pacify the angry Estates of the Silesian Duchy. The 
consent required was given, and then the Duke with 
his faithful Schweinichen, and several other retainers, 
started on a grand begging and borrowing round of 
the Empire. Hans was constituted treasurer, and he 
had in his purse about ^400. The Duke took with 
him five squires, two pages, three serving men, a 



SCHWEINICHEN 'S MEMOIRS. 77 

cook, and several kitchen boys, one carriage drawn 
by six horses, another by four. And not only was 
this train to make the round of the Empire, but also 
to visit Italy — and all on .£400. 

The first visit was paid, three days' journey from 
Prague, at Theusing to a half-sister of the Duchess. 
She received him coolly, and lectured him on his 
conduct to his wife. When the Duke asked her to 
lend him money, she answered that she would pay 
his expenses home, if he chose to go back to Liegnitz, 
but not one penny otherwise should he have. Not 
content with this refusal, the Duke went on to 
Nurnberg, where he sent Hans to the town council 
to invite them to lend him money; he asked for 4,000 
florins. The council declined the honour. The two 
•daughters of the Duke were in the charge of the 
Margrave of Anspach, their mother's brother. The 
Duke sent Hans to Anspach to urge the Margrave to 
send the little girls to him, or invite him to visit 
Anspach to see them. He was shy of visiting - 
his brother-in-law uninvited, because of the box in 
the ear and the black eye. He confided to Hans that if 
he got his children at Nurnberg, he would not return 
them to their uncle, without a loan or a honorarium. 

This shabby transaction was not to Schweinichen's 
taste, but he was obliged to undertake it. It proved 
unsuccessful, the Margrave refused to give up the 
children till the Duke returned to his wife and duchy 
and set a better example. 

\ Whilst Hans was away, the Duke won a large sum 
of money at play, enough to pay his own bill, but 
instead of doing this with it, he had it melted up and 



78 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

made into silver cups. When he came to leave 
Nurnberg he was unable to pay his inn bill, and obliged 
to leave in pawn with the taverner a valuable jewel. 
Then he and his suite went to Augsburg and settled 
into an inn till the town council could agree to lend 
him money. 

One day, whilst there, Hans was invited to a 
wedding. The Duke wanted to go also, but, as he 
was not invited, he went as Hans' servant, but got so 
drunk that Hans was obliged to carry him home to 
the tavern, after which he returned to the wedding. 
In the evening, when dancing began, the Duke re- 
appeared, he had slept off his drunkenness and was 
fresh for more entertainment. He was now recog- 
nized, and according to etiquette, two town coun- 
cillors, in robes of office and gold chains, danced 
solemnly before his Highness. Hans tells us that it 
was customary for all dances to be led by two 
persons habited in scarlet with white sleeves, and 
these called the dance and set the figures, no one 
might execute any figure or do anything which had 
not been done by the leaders. Now as Hans vows 
he never saw so many pretty girls anywhere as on 
that evening, he tipped the leaders with half a thaler 
to kiss each other, whereupon the two solemn dancing 
councillors had also to kiss each other, and the Duke, 
nothing loth, his partner, and Hans, with zest, his. 
That evening he gave plenty of kisses, and what with 
the many lights, and the music and the dancing and 
the pretty girls he thought himself in Paradise. 
Shortly after this, the Duke was invited to dine with 
Fugger, the merchant prince, who showed him his 



SCHWEINICHEN'S MEMOIRS. 79 

treasury, gold to the worth of a million, and one 
tower lined within from top half way down with 
nothing but silver thalers. The Duke's mouth 
watered, and he graciously invited Fugger to lend 
him ^"5,000 ; this the merchant declined, but made 
him a present of 200 crowns and a good horse. The 
town council consented to lend the Duke .£1,200 on 
his I.O.U. for a year ; and then to pay his host he 
melted up his silver mugs again, pawned his plate 
and gave him a promissory note for two months. 

From Augsburg the Duke went about the abbeys, 
trying to squeeze loans out of the abbots, but found 
that they had always the excuse ready, that they 
would not lend to Lutheran princes. Then he stuck 
on in the abbeys, eating up all their provisions and 
rioting in their guest-apartments, till the abbots were 
fain to make him a present to be rid of him. 

All at once an opening offered for the Duke to gain 
both renown and money. Henry I. of Conde was at 
the court of the Elector Palatine at Heidelsberg,. 
soliciting assistance in behalf of the Huguenots 
against the King of France. The Elector agreed to 
send a force under his son John Casimir, and the 
Duke of Liegnitz offered his services, which were 
readily accepted. He was to lead the rearguard, and 
to receive a liberal pay for his services. Whilst he- 
was collecting this force and getting underway, John 
Casimir and the Prince of Conde marched through 
Lorraine to Metz, and Hans went with John Casimir. 
He trusted he was now on his way to fortune. But it 
was not so to be. The Duke, his master, insisted that 
he should return to him, and Hans, on doing so, found. 



So historic oddities. 

him rioting and gambling away, at Frankfort and 
Nassau, the money paid him in advance for his useless 
services. Almost the first duty imposed on Hans, on 
his return, was to negociate a loan for ^5,000 with the 
magistrates of Frankfort, which was peremptorily re- 
fused; whereupon the Duke went to Cologne and 
stayed there seven months, endeavouring to cajole 
the town council there into advancing him money. 

But we can not follow any further the miserable 
story of the degradation of the Silesian Duke, till at 
the beginning of the new year, 1577, the Duke ran away 
from the town of Emmerich, leaving his servants to pay 
his debts as best they could. Hans sold the horses 
and whatever was left, and then, not sorry to be quit of 
such a master, returned on foot to his Silesian home. 

It is, perhaps, worth while quoting Duke Henry's 
letter, which Hans found in the morning announcing 
his master's evasion. 

" Dear Hans, — Here is a chain, do what you can with it. 
Weigh it and sell it, also the horses for ready money ; I will not 
pillow my head in feathers till, by God's help, I have got some 
money, to enable me to clear out of this vile land, and away 
from these people. Good morning, best-loved Hans. 

"With mine own hand, Henry, Duke." 

; As he neared home, sad news reached Hans. The 
Ducal creditors had come down on his father, who had 
made himself responsible, and had seized the family 
estates ; whereat the old man's heart broke, and 
he had died in January. When Hans heard this, he 
sat for two hours on a stone beside the road, utterly 
unmanned, before he could recover himself sufficiently 
to pursue his journey. 



SCHWEINICHEN'S MEMOIRS. 81 

In the meantime an Imperial commission had sat 
on the Duke, deposed him, and appointed his brother 
Frederick duke in his room. Schweinichen's fidelity 
to Duke Henry ensured his disfavour with Duke 
Frederick, and he was not summoned to court, but was 
left quietly at Mertschlitz to do his best along with his 
brother to bring the family affairs into some sort of 
order. His old master did not, however, allow him 
much rest. By the Imperial decision, he was to be 
provided with a daily allowance of money, food 
and wine. This drew Duke Henry home, and no 
sooner was he back in Silesia than he insisted on Hans 
returning to his service, and for some years more he 
led the faithful soul a troubled life, and involved him 
in miserable pecuniary perplexities. This was the 
more trying to Hans as he had now fallen in love with 
Margaret von Schellendorff, whom he married eventu- 
ally. The tenderness and goodness of Schweinichen's 
heart break out whenever he speaks of his dear Mar- 
garetta, and of the children which came and were 
taken from him. His sorrows as he lingered over the 
sick-beds of his little ones, and the closeness with 
which he was drawn by domestic bereavements and 
pecuniary distresses, to his Margaretta, come out 
clearly in his narrative. The whole story is far too 
long to tell in its entirety. Hans was a voluminous 
diarist. His memoirs cease at the year 1602, when 
he was suffering from gout, but he lived on some years 
longer. 

In the church of S. John at Liegnitz was at one 
time his monument, with life-sized figure of Hans von 
Schweinichen,and aboveit his bannerand aninscription 



S2 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

stating that he died on the 23rd Aug., 1616. Alas I 
the hand of the destroyer has been there. The church 
and monument are destroyed, and we can no longer 
see what manner of face Hans wore ; but of the inner 
man, of a good, faithful, God fearing, and loving soul,, 
strong and true, he has himself left us the most 
accurate portrait in his precious memoirs. 



Zhc Xocfcsmttb (Samain, 

AMONG the many episodes of the French Revolution 
there is one which deserves to be somewhat closely 
examined, because of the gravity of the accusation 
which it involves against the King and Queen, and 
because a good deal of controversy has raged round 
it. The episode is that of the locksmith Gamain,. 
whom the King and Queen are charged with having - 
attempted to poison. 

That the accusation was believed during " the 
Terror " goes without saying ; the heated heads and 
angry hearts at that time were in no condition to sift 
evidence with impartiality. Afterwards, the charge 
was regarded as preposterous, till the late M. Paul 
Lacroix — better known as le Bibliophile Jacob — a 
student of history, very careful and diligent as a col- 
lector, gave it a new spell of life in 1836, when he 
reformulated the accusation in a fetiilleton of the 
Siecle. Not content to let it sleep or die in the 
ephemeral pages of a newspaper, he republished the 
whole story in 1838, in his "Dissertations sur quelques 
points curieux de l'histoire de France." This he 
again reproduced in his " Curiosites de l'histoire de 
France," in 1858. M. Louis -Blanc, convinced that 
the case was made out, has reasserted the charge in 
his work on the French Revolution, and it has since 
been accepted by popular writers — as Ddcembre- 



S 4 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

Alonnier — who seek to justify the execution of the 
King and Queen, and to glorify the Revolution. 

M. Thiers rejected the accusation ; M. Eckard 
pointed out the improbabilities in the story in the 
" Biographie Universelle," and M. Mortimer-Ternaux 
has also shown its falsity in his " Histoire de la Ter- 
reur ;" and finally, M. Le Roy, librarian of Versailles, 
in 1867, devoted his special attention to it, and com- 
pletely disproved the poisoning of Gamain. But in 
spite of disproval the slanderous accusation does not 
die, and no doubt is still largely believed in Paris. 

So tenacious of life is a lie- — like the bacteria that 
can be steeped in sulphuric acid without destroying 
their vitality — that the story has been again recently 
raked up, and given to the public, from Lacroix, in a 
number of the Cornhill Magazine (December, 1887) ; 
the writer of course knew only Lacroix' myth, and 
had never seen how it had been disproved. It is well 
now to review the whole story. 

Francois Gamain was born at Versailles on August 
29, 175 1. He belonged to an hereditary locksmith 
family. His father Nicolas had been in the same 
trade, and had charge of the locks in the royal palaces 
in Versailles and elsewhere. 

The love of Louis XVI. for mechanical works is 
well known. He had a little workshop at Versailles, 
where he amused himself making locks, assisted by 
Francois Gamain, to whom he was much attached, 
and with whom he spent many hours in projecting 
and executing mechanical contrivances. The story 
is told of the Intendant Thierry, that when one day 
the King showed him a lock he had made, he replied, 



THE LOCKSMITH G AMAIN. 85 

'\Sire, when kings occupy themselves with the works 
of the common people, the common people will assume 
the functions of kings," but the mot was probably 
made after the fact. 

After the terrible days of the 5th and 6th of Oc- 
tober, 1789, the King was brought to Paris. Gamain 
remained at Versailles, which was his home, and re- 
tained the King's full confidence. 

When, later, the King was surrounded by enemies, 
and he felt the necessity for having some secret place 
where he could conceal papers of importance which 
might yet fall into the hands of the rabble if the 
palace was again invaded, as it had been at Versailles, 
he sent for Gamain to make for him an iron chest in 
a place of concealment, that could only be opened by 
one knowing the secret of the lock. 

Unfortunately, the man was not as trustworthy as 
Louis XVI. supposed. Surrounded by those who 
had adopted the principles of the Revolution, and 
being a man without strong mind, he followed the 
current, and in 1792 he was nominated member of 
the Council General of the Commune of Versailles, 
and on September 24 he was one of the commissioners 
appointed /to cause to disappear all such paintings, 
sculptures, and inscriptions from the monuments of 
the Commune as might serve to recall royalty and 
despotism." 

The records of the debates of the Communal 
Council show that Gamain attended regularly and 
took part in the discussions, which were often tumul- 
tuous. 

The Queen heard of Gamain's Jacobinism, and 



86 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

warned the King, who, however, could not believe 
that Gamain would betray him. Marie Antoinette 
insisted on the most important papers being removed 
from the iron chest, and they were confided to Mme. 
de Campan. 

When the trial of the King was begun, on Novem- 
ber 20, Gamain went to Roland, Minister of the In- 
terior, and told him the secret of the iron chest. 
Roland, alarmed at the consequences of such a dis- 
covery, hastened to consult his \wife, who was in 
reality more minister than himself. 

From August 10, a commission had been appointed 
to collect all the papers found in the Tuileries ; this 
commission, therefore, ought to be made acquainted 
with the discovery ; but here lay the danger. Mme. 
Roland, as an instrument of the Girondins, feared 
that among the papers in the chest might be dis- 
covered some which would show in what close rela- 
tions the Girondins stood to the Court. She decided 
that her husband should go to the Tuileries, accom- 
panied by Gamain, an architect, and a servant. The 
chest was opened by the locksmith, Roland removed 
all the papers, tied them up in a napkin, and took 
them home. They were taken the same day to the 
Convention ; and the commission charged the minister 
with having abstracted such papers as would have 
been inconvenient to him to deliver up. 

When Roland surrendered the papers he declared, 
without naming Gamain, that they had been dis- 
covered in a hole in the wall closed by an iron door, 
behind a wainscot panel, in so secret a place " that 
they could not have been found had not the secret 



THE LOCKSMITH GAM A IN. 87 

been disclosed by the workman who had himself 
made the place of concealment." 

On December 24 following, Gamairi was summoned 
to Paris by the Convention to give his evidence to 
prove that a key discovered in the desk of Thierry 
•de Ville-d'Avray fitted the iron chest. 
\ After the execution of the King, on January 21, 
1793, the Convention sent deputies into all the de- 
partments " to stimulate the authorities to act with 
the energy requisite under the circumstances/' Cras- 
sous was sent into the department of Seine-et-Oise ; 
and not finding the municipality of Versailles, of 
which Gamain was a member, " up to the requisite 
pitch," he discharged them from office ; and by a law 
of September 17, all such discharged functionaries 
were declared to be " suspected persons," who were 
liable to be brought before the revolutionary tribunal 
on that charge alone. 

Thus, in spite of all the proofs he had given of his 
fidelity to the principles of the Revolution, Gamain 
was at any moment liable to arrest, and to being 
brought before that terrible tribunal from which the 
only exit was to the guillotine. Moreover, Gamain 
had lost his place and emoluments as Court lock- 
smith ; he had fallen into great poverty, was without 
work, and without health. 

On April 27, 1794, he presented a petition to the 
Convention which was supported by Musset, the de- 
puty and constitutional cure. " It was not enough," 
said Musset from the tribune, " that the last of our 
tyrants should have delivered over thousands of 
citizens to be slain by the sword of the enemy. You 



88 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

will see by the petition I am about to read that he 
was familiarised with the most refined cruelty, and 
that he himself administered poison to the father of a 
family, in the hopes thereby of destroying evidence of 
his perfidy. You will see that his ferocious mind had 
adopted the maxim that to a king everything is per- 
missible." 

After this preamble Musset read the petition of 
Gamain, which is as follows : " Francois Gamain, 
locksmith to the cabinets and to the laboratory of the 
late King, and for three years member of the 
Council General of the Commune of Versailles, 
declares that at the beginning of May 1792 he was 
ordered to go to Paris. On reaching it, Capet re- 
quired him to make a cupboard in the thickness of 
one of the walls of his room, and to fasten it with an 
iron door ; and he further states that he was thus 
engaged up to the 22nd of the said month, and that 
he worked in the King's presence. When the chest 
was completed, Capet himself offered citizen Gamain 
a large tumbler of wine, and asked him to drink it, as 
he, the said Gamain, was very hot. 

" A few hours later he was attacked by a violent 
colic, which did not abate till he had taken two 
spoonfuls of elixir, which made him vomit all he had 
eaten and drunk that day. This was the prelude to a 
terrible illness, which lasted fourteen months, during 
which he lost the use of his limbs, and which has left 
him at present without hope of recovering his full 
health, and of working so as to provide for the 
necessities of his family." 

After reading the petition Musset added : " I hold 



THE LOCKSMITH G AMAIN. 89 

in my hands the certificate of the doctors, that testifies 
to the bad state of the health of the citizen peti- 
tioner. 

" Citizens ! If wickedness is common to kings, 
generosity is the prerogative of the free people. I 
demand that this petition be referred to the Com- 
mittee of Public Assistance to be promptly dealt with. 
I demand that after the request all the papers relating 
to it be deposed in the national archives, as a monu- 
ment of the atrocity of tyrants, and be inserted in the 
bulletin, that all those who have supposed that Capet 
did evil only at the instigation of others may know 
that crime was rooted in his very heart." This pro- 
position was decreed. On May 17, 1794, the repre- 
sentative Peyssard mounted the tribune, and read the 
report of the Committee, which we must condense. 

" Citizens ! At the tribunal of liberty the crimes of 
the oppressors of the human race stand to be judged. 
To paint a king in all his hideousness I need name 
only Louis XVI. This name sums in itself all crimes ; 
it recalls a prodigy of iniquity and of perfidy. 
Hardly escaped from infancy, the germs of the fero- 
cious perversity which characterise a despot appeared 
in him. His earliest sports were with blood, and his 
brutality grew with his years, and he delighted in 
wreaking his ferocity on all the animals he met. He 
was known to be cruel, treacherous, and murderous. 
The object of this report is to exhibit him to 
France cold-bloodedly offering a cup of poison to 
the unhappy artist whom he had just employed to 
construct a cupboard in which to conceal the plots of 
tyranny. It was no stranger he marked as his victim, 



93 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

but a workman whom he had employed for five-ar.d- 
twenty years, and the father of a family, his own in- 
structor in the locksmith's art. Monsters who thus 
treat their chosen servants, how will they deal with 
the rest of men ? " 

The National Convention thereupon ordered that 
" Francois Gamain, poisoned by Louis Capet on May 
22, 1792, should enjoy an annual pension of the sum 
of 1,200 livres, dating from the day on which he was 
poisoned." 

v It will be noticed by the most careless reader that 
the evidence is nil. Gamain does not feel the colic 
till some hours after he has drunk the wine ; he had 
eaten or drunk other things besides during the day ; 
and finally the testimony of the doctors is, not that he 
was poisoned, but that, at the time of his presenting 
the petition, he was in a bad state of health. Accord- 
ingly, all reasonable historians, unblinded by party 
passion, have scouted the idea of an attempt on 
Gamain's life by the King. Thus the matter would 
have remained had not M. Paul Lacroix taken it up 
and propped the old slander on new legs. We will 
take his account, which he pretends to have received 
from several persons to whom Gamain related it re- 
peatedly. This is his mise en scene. 

V" The old inhabitants of Versailles will remember 
with pity the man whom they often encountered alone, 
bowed on his stick like one bent with years. Gamain 
was aged only fifty-eight when he died, but he bore 
all the marks of decrepitude." 

Here is a blunder, to begin with ; he died, as the 
Versailles registers testify, 01 May 8, 1795, and was 



THE LOCKSMITH GAM A IN. 



9i 



accordingly only forty-four years old, — that is, he 
died one year after the grant of the annuity. M. Par- 
rott, in his article on Gamain in the " Dictionnaire de 
la Revolution Francaise," says that he died in 1799, 
five years after having received his pension ; but the 
Versailles registers- are explicit. 

\ M. Lacroix goes on : " His hair had fallen off, and 
the little that remained had turned white over a brow 
furrowed deeply : the loss of his teeth made his 
cheeks hollow ; his dull eyes only glared with sombre 
fire when the name of Louis XVI. was pronounced. 
Sometimes even tears then filled them. Gamain 
lived very quietly with his family on his humble 
pension, which, notwithstanding the many changes of 
government, was always accorded him. It was not 
suppressed, lest the reason of its being granted should 
again be raked up before the public." 

As we have seen, Gamain died under the Govern- 
ment which granted the pension. M. Lacroix goes 
■on to say " that the old locksmith bore to his dying 
day an implacable hatred of Louis XVI., whom he 
accused of having been guilty of an abominable act 
of treachery." 

" This act of treachery was the fixed and sole idea 
in Gamain's head, he recurred to it incessantly, and 
poured forth a flood of bitter and savage recrimina- 
tions against the King. It was Gamain who dis- 
closed the secret of the iron chest in the Tuileries, 
and the papers it contained, which furnished the, 
•chief accusation against Louis XVI.; it was he, there- 
fore, who had, so to speak, prepared the guillotine for 
the royal head ; it was he, finally, who provoked the 



92 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

decree of the Convention which blackened the 
memory of the King as that of a vulgar murderer. 
But this did not suffice the hate of Gamain, who went 
about everywhere pursuing the dead beyond the 
tomb, with his charge of having attempted murder as 
payment of life-long and devoted service. Gamain 
ordinarily passed his evenings in a cafe at Versailles, 
the name of which I have been told, but which I do 
not divulge lest I should make a mistake. He was 
generally in the society of two old notaries, who are 
still alive (in 1836), and of the doctor Lameyran, who 
attended him when he was poisoned. These three 
persons were prepared to attest all the particulars of 
the poisoning which had been proved at the flroees 
■verbal. Gamain, indeed, lacked witnesses to establish 
the incidents of the 22nd May, 1792, at the Tuileries; 
but his air of veracity and expression of pain, his 
accent of conviction, his face full of suffering, his 
burning eyes, his pathetic pantomime, were the guar- 
antees of good faith." 

These three men, the notaries and the doctor, which 
latter M. Lacroix hints was living when he wrote, were 
his authorities for what follows. The notaries he does 
not name, nor the cafe where they met. His account 
published in the Steele at once attracted attention, and 
M. Lacroix was challenged to produce his witnesses. 
As for M. Lameyran, the doctor, he had died in 181 1 ; 
consequently his testimony was not to be had in 1836. 
The other doctor who had attended Gamain was M. 
Voisin, who died in 1823, but M. Le Roy asserts 
positively that in 181 3 M. Voisin told him, "Never 
was Gamain poisoned. Lameyran and I had long 



THE LOCKSMITH GAM A IN. 93 

attended him for chronic malady of the stomach. 
This is all we testified to in our certificate, when he 
applied for a pension. In our certificate we stated 
that he was in weak health — not a word was in it 
about poisoning, which existed only in his fancy." 

These certificates are no longer in existence. They 
were not preserved in the archives of the Convention. 
Even this fact is taken as evidence in favour of the 
attempt. M. Emile Bonnet, in an article on Gamain 
in the " Intermediate des Chercheurs," declares that 
they have been substracted since the Restoration of 
Charles ; x but there is no trace in the archives of them 
ever having been there. Moreover, we have M. Le 
Roy's word that M. Voisin assured him he had not 
testified to poisoning, and, what is more important, 
we have Musset's declaration before the Convention 
that the certificate of the doctors "asserted the ill- 
health of the claimant." If there had been a word 
about poison in it, he would assuredly have said so. 

M. Lacroix was asked to name his authorities — the 
two advocates who, as M. Lameyran was dead, were 
alive and would testify to the fact that they had heard 
the story from the lips of Gamain. He remained 
silent. He would not even name the cafe where they 
met, and which might lead to the identification. M. 
Eckard, who wrote the notice on Gamain in the 
" Biographie Universelle," consulted the family of the 
locksmith on the case, and was assured by them that 
the bad health of Gamain was due to no other cause 
than disappointment at the loss of his fortune, the 

1 Le Bibliophile Jacob says the same : " Les — pieces — 16- 
tournees maladroitement par la Restauration." 



94 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

privations he underwent, and, above all, his terror for 
his life after his dismissal from the Communal Council. 

We will now continue M. Lacroix's account, which 
he proceeds, not a little disingenuously, to put into 
the mouth of Gamain himself, so that the accusation 
may not be charged on the author. 

\" On May 21, 1792," says Gamain, according to the 
" Bibliophile Jacob," " whilst I was working in my 
shop, a horseman drew up at my door and called me 
out. His disguise as a carter did not prevent me 
from recognising Durey, the King's forge assistant. 
I refused. I congratulated myself that evening at 
having done so, as the rumour spread in Versailles 
that the Tuileries had been attacked by the mob, but 
this did not really take place till a month later. 
Next morning Durey returned and showed me a note 
in the King's own hand, entreating me to lend my 
assistance in a difficult job past his unaided powers. 
My pride was flattered. I embraced my wife and 
children, without telling them whither I was going, 
but I promised to return that night. It was not 
without anxiety that they saw me depart with a 
stranger for Paris." 

We need merely point out that Durey was. no 
stranger to the family : he had been for years associ- 
ated daily with Gamain. 

\ " Durey conducted me to the Tuileries, where the 
King was guarded as in a prison. We went at once 
to the royal workshop, where Durey left me, whilst he 
went to announce my arrival. Whilst I was alone, I 
observed an iron door, recently forged, a mortise lock, 
well executed, and a little iron box with a secret 



THE LOCKSMITH G AMAIN. 95 

spring which I did not at once discover. Then in 
came Durey with the King. ' The times are bad,' 
said Louis XVI., ' and I do not know how matters 
will end.' Then he showed me the works I had 
noticed, and said, ' What do you say to my skill ? It 
took me ten days to execute these things. I am your 
apprentice, Gamain.' I protested my entire devotion. 
Then the King assured me that he always had confi- 
dence in me, and that he did not scruple to trust the 
fate of himself and his family in my hands. There- 
upon he conducted me into the dark passage that led 
from his room to the chamber of the Dauphin. 
Durey lit a taper, and removed a panel in the passage, 
behind which I perceived a round hole, about two 
feet in diameter, bored in the wall. The King told 
me he intended to secrete his money in it, and that 
Durey, who had helped to make it, threw the dust 
and chips into the river during the night. Then the 
King told me that he was unable to fit the iron door 
to the hole unassisted. I went to work immediately. 
I went over all the parts of the lock, and got them 
into working order ; then I fashioned a key to the lock, 
then made hinges and fastened them into the wall as 
firmly as I could, without letting the hammering be 
heard. The King helped as well as he was able, 
entreating me every moment to strike with less noise, 
and to be quicker over my work. The key was put 
in the little iron casket, and this casket was concealed 
under a slab of pavement in the corridor." 

It will be seen that this story does not agree with 
the account in the petition made by Gamain to the 
Convention. In that he said he was summoned to 



96 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

Paris at the beginning of the month of May, and that 
'Capet ordered him to make a cupboard in the thick- 
ness of the wall of his apartment, and to close it with 
an iron door, the whole of which was not accomplished 
till the 22nd of the same month." He was three 
weeks over the job, not a few hours. " I had been 
working," continues Gamain, or M. Lacroix for him, 
"for eight consecutive hours. The sweat poured from 
my brow ; I was impatient to repose, and faint with 
hunger, as I had eaten nothing since I got up." 

But, according to his account before the Conven- 
tion, the elixir made him throw up " all he had eaten 
and drunk during the day." 

\" I seated myself a moment in the King's chamber, 
and he asked me to count for him two thousand 
double louis and tie them up in four leather bags. 
Whilst so doing I observed that Durey was carrying 
some bundles of papers which I conjectured were 
destined for the secret closet; and, indeed, the money- 
counting was designed to distract my attention from 
what Durey was about." 

What a clumsy story ! Why were not the papers 
hidden after Gamain was gone ? Was it necessary 
that this should be done in his presence, and he 
set to count money, so as not to observe what was 
going on ? 
-v" As I was about to leave, the Queen suddenly 
entered by a masked door at the foot of the King's 
bed, holding in her hands a plate, in which was a 
cake (brioche) and a glass of wine. She came up to 
me, and I saluted her with surprise, because the King 
had assured me that she knew nothing about th'3 



THE LOCKSMITH GAMAIN. 97 

fabrication of the chest. ' My dear Gamain,' said she 
in a caressing tone, ' how hot you are ! Drink this 
tumbler of wine and eat this cake, and they will 
sustain you on your journey home.' I thanked her, 
confounded by this consideration for a poor workman, 
and I emptied the tumbler to her health. I put the 
cake in my pocket, intending to take it home to my 
children." 

Here again is a discrepancy. In his petition 
Gamain says that the King gave him a glass of wine, 
and makes no mention of the Queen. 

On leaving the Tuileries, Gamain set out on foot 
for Versailles, but was attacked by a violent colic in 
the Champs Elysees. His agonies increased ; he was 
no longer able to walk ; he fell, and rolled on the 
ground, uttering cries and moans. A carriage that 
was passing stopped, and an English gentleman got 
out — wonderful to relate! — extraordinary coincidence! 
— a physician, and an acquaintance. 
rx " The Englishman took me to his carriage, and 
'ordered the coachman to drive at full gallop to an 
apothecary's shop. The conveyance halted at last 
before one in the Rue de Bac ; the Englishman left 
me alone, whilst he prepared an elixir which might 
counteract the withering power of the poison. When 
I had swallowed this draught I ejected the venomous 
substances. An hour later nothing could have saved 
me. I recovered in part my sight and hearing ; the 
cold that circulated in my veins was dissipated by 
degrees, and the Englishman judged that I might be 
safely removed to Versailles, which we reached at 
two o'clock in the morning. A physician, M. de 



98 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

Lameyran, and a surgeon, M. Voisin, were called in \ 
they recognised the unequivocal tokens of poison. 

" After three days of fever, delirium, and inconceiv- 
able suffering, I triumphed over the poison, but 
suffered ever after from a paralysis almost complete,, 
and a general inflammation of the digestive organs. 
/n " A few days after this catastrophe the servant 
maid, whilst cleaning my coat, which I had worn on 
the occasion of my accident, found my handkerchief,, 
stained black, and the cake. She took a bite of the 
latter, and threw the rest into the yard, where a dog 
ate it and died. The girl, who had consumed only a 
morsel of the cake, fell dangerously ill. The dog was 
opened by M. Voisin, and a chemical analysis dis- 
closed the presence of poison, both on my kerchief 
stained by my vomit, and in the cake. The cake 
alone contained enough corrosive sublimate to kill ten 
persons." 

So — the poison was found. But how is it that in 
Gamain's petition none of this occurs? According to> 
that document, Gamain was offered a goblet of wine 
by the King himself. "A few hours later he was. 
attacked by a violent colic. This was the prelude to 
a terrible illness." Only a vague hint as to poison„ 
no specific statement that he had been poisoned, and 
that the kind of poison had been determined. 

Now, corrosive sublimate, when put in red wine,, 
forms a violet precipitate, and alters the taste of the 
wine, giving it a characteristic metallic, harsh flavour, 
so disagreeable that it insures its immediate rejection. 
Gamain tasted nothing. Again, the action of corro- 
sive sublimate is immediate or very nearly so ; but 



THE LOCKSMITH GAMAIN. 99 

Gamain was not affected till several hours after hav- 
ing drunk the wine. 

According to the petition, Gamain asserted that he 
was paralysed in all his limbs for fourteen months, 
from May 22, 1792 ; but the Communal registers of 
Versailles show that he attended a session of the 
Council and took part in the discussion on June 4 
following, that is, less than a fortnight after ; that he 
was present at the sessions of June 8, 17, 20, and on 
August 22, and that he was sufficiently hearty and 
active to be elected on the commission which was to 
obliterate the insignia of monarchy on September 
24 following, which certainly would not have been 
the case had he been a sick man paralysed in all his 
members. 

^VVhy, we may further inquire, did not Louis the 
XVI. or Queen Marie Antoinette attempt to poison 
Durey also, if they desired to make away with all 
those who knew the secret of the iron locker ? 

Now, Durey was alive in 1800, and Eckard, who 
wrote the article on Gamain in the " Biographie 
Universelle," knew him and saw him at that date, 
and Durey told him that Gamain's story was a lie ; 
the iron safe was made, not in 1792, but in May, 1791 ; 
and this is probable, as it would have been easier for 
the King to have the locker made before his escape 
to Varennes, than in 1792, when he was under the 
closest supervision. 

According to the version attributed to Gamain by 
M. Paul Lacroix, Gamain was paralysed for five 
months only. Why this change ? Because either M. 
Lacroix or the locksmith had discovered that it was 



ioo HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

an anachronism for him to appear in November before 
Roland, and assist him in opening the case which he 
had made in May — five months before, and afterwards 
to declare that he was paralysed in all his members 
from May till the year following. We think this 
correction is due to the Bibliophile. But he was not 
acquainted with the Versailles archives proving him 
to have been at a session a few days after the pre- 
tended poisoning. 

There is not much difficulty in discovering Gamain's 
motive for formulating the accusation against the 
King. He betrayed his king, who trusted him, and 
then, to excuse his meanness, invented an odious 
calumny against him. 

! But what was M. Lacroix's object in revivifying the 
base charge? We are not sure that he comes cleaner 
out of the slough than the despicable locksmith. He 
gave the story a new spell of life ; he based his 
" facts " on testimonies, who, he said, were ready at 
any moment to vouch for the truth. When challenged 
to produce them he would not do so. His " facts " 
were proved again and again to be fables, and yet he 
dared to republish his slanderous story again and 
again, without a word of apology, explanation, or re- 
tractation. M. Lacroix died only a year or two ago, and 
it may seem ungenerous to attack a dead man, but one 
is forced to do this in defence of the honour of a dead 
Queen whom he grossly calumniated. The calumny 
was ingeniously put. M. Lacroix set it in the mouth of 
Gamain, thinking thereby to free himself from respon- 
sibility, but the responsibility sticks when he refuses 
to withdraw what has been demonstrated to be false. 



THE LOCKSMITH GAMAIN. 101 

\There is something offensive to the last degree in 
the pose of M. Lacroix as he opens his charge. " For 
some years I have kept by me, with a sort of terror, 
the materials for an historic revelation, without ven- 
turing to use them, and yet the fact, now almost un- 
known, on which I purpose casting a sinister light, is 
one that has been the object of my most active pre- 
occupations. For long I condemned myself to silence 
and to fresh research, hitherto fruitless, hoping that 

the truth would come to light Well ! now, at 

the moment of lifting the veil which covers a half- 
effaced page of history, with the documents I have 
consulted and the evidence I have gleaned lying be- 
fore me, surrounded by a crowd of witnesses, one 
sustaining the testimony of the other, relying on my 
conscience and on my sentiments as a man of honour 
— still I hesitate to open my mouth and call up the 
remembrance of an event monstrous in itself, that has 
not found an echo even in the writings of the blindest 
partisans of a hideous epoch. Yes, I feel a certain 
repugnance in seeming to associate in thought, though 
not in act, with the enemies of Louis XVI. I have 
just re-read the sublime death of this unhappy poli- 
tical martyr ; I have felt my eyes moisten with tears 
at the contemplation of the picture of the death in- 
flicted by an inexorable state necessity, and I felt I 
must break my pen lest I should mix my ink with 
the yet warm blood of the innocent victim. Let my 
hand wither rather than rob Louis XVI. of the mantle 
of probity and goodness, which the outrages of '93 
succeeded neither in staining nor in rending to rags." 
And so on — M. Lacroix is only acting under a high 



102 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

sense of the sacred duty of seeking the truth, " of 
forcing the disclosure of facts, before it be too late," 
which may establish the innocence of Louis XVI. 
Now, be it noted that M. Lacroix is the first to accuse 
the Queen of attempting the murder ; his assault is 
on her as much as, more than, on the poor King — in 
the sacred interests of historic truth ! 
N What are his evidences, his crowd of witnesses, his 
documents that he has collected ? What proof is 
there of his active preoccupations and fresh researches? 
He produced nothing that can be called proof, and 
refused the names of his witnesses when asked for 
them. We can quite understand that the Bibliophile 
Jacob may have heard some gossiping story such as 
he narrates, and may have believed it when he wrote 
the story ; but then, where are the high sense of 
honour, the tender conscience, the enthusiasm for 
truth, when his story is proved to be a tissue of im- 
probabilities and impossibilities, that permit him to 
republish, and again republish at intervals of years, 
this cruel and calumnious fabrication ? 



Hbram tbe insurer. 1 

In the reign of Heraclius, when Sergius was patri- 
arch of Constantinople, there lived in Byzantium a 
merchant named Theodore, a good man and just, 
fearing God, and serving him with all his heart. He 
r>v went^a voyage to the ports of Syria and Palestine 
with his wares, in a large well-laden vessel, sold his 
goods to profit, and turned his ship's head home- 
wards with a good lading of silks and spices, the 
former some of the produce of the looms of distant 
China, brought in caravans through Persia and Syria 
to the emporiums on the Mediterranean. 

It was late in the year when Theodore began his 
voyage home, the equinoctial gales had begun to 
blow, and prudence would have suggested that he 
should winter in Cyprus ; but he was eager to return 
to Byzantium to his beloved wife, and to prepare for 
another adventure in the ensuing spring. 

But he was overtaken by a storm as he was sailing 

up the Propontis, and to save the vessel he was 

obliged to throw all the lading overboard. He 

1 This account is taken from a sermon preached in the 
Church of St. Sophia at Constantinople on Orthodoxy Sunday, 
printed by Combefisius (Auctuarium novum, pars post. col. 644), 
from a MS. in the National Library at Paris. Another copy of 
the sermon is in the Library at Turin. The probable date of 
the composition is the tenth century. Orthodoxy Sunday was 
not instituted till 842. 



104 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

reached Constantinople in safety, but with the loss of 
his goods. His grief and despair were excessive. 
His wife was unable to console him. He declared 
that he was weary of the world, his loss was sent him 
as a warning from heaven not to set his heart on 
Mammon, and that he was resolved to enter a mon- 
astery, and spend the rest of his days in devotion. 

" Hasten, husband mine," said the wife, " put this 
scheme into execution at once ; for if you delay you 
may change your mind." 

The manifest impatience of his wife to get rid of 
him somewhat cooled the ardour of Theodore for the 
monastic profession, and before taking the irrevoc- 
able step, he consulted a friend. " I think, dearest 
brother, nay, I am certain, that this misfortune came 
on me as the indication of the finger of Providence 
that I should give up merchandise and care only for 
the saving of my soul." 

" My friend," answered the other, " I do not see 
this in the same light as you. Every merchant must 
expect loss. It is one of the ordinary risks of sailors. 
It is absurd to despair. Go to your friends and 
borrow of them sufficient to load your vessel again, 
and try your luck once more. You are known as a 
merchant, and trusted as an honest man, and will 
have no difficulty in raising the sum requisite." 

Theodore rushed home, and announced to his wife 
that he had already changed his mind, and that he 
was going to borrow money. 

" Whatever pleases you is right in my eyes," said 
the lady. 

Theodore then went the round of his acquaintances, 



ABRAM THE USURER. 105 

told them of his misfortune, and then asked them to 
lend him enough to restock his vessel, promising to 
pay them a good percentage on the money lent. 
But the autumn had been fatal to more vessels than 
that of Theodore, and he found that no one was dis- 
posed to advance him the large sum he required. He 
went from door to door, but a cold refusal met him 
everywhere. Disappointed, and sick at heart, dis- 
tressed at finding friends so unfriendly, he returned 
home, and said to his wife, " Woman ! the world is 
hard and heartless, I will have nothing more to do 
with it. I will become a monk." 

" Dearest husband, do so by all means, and I shall 
be well pleased," answered the wife. 

Theodore tossed on his bed all night, unable to 
sleep; before dawn an idea struck him. There was a 
Jew named Abram who had often importuned him to 
trade with his money, but whom he had invariably 
refused. He would try this man as a last resource. 

So when morning came, Theodore rose and went to 
the shop of Abram. The Hebrew listened attentively 
to his story, and then said, smiling, " Master Theo- 
dore, when thou wast rich, I often asked thee to take 
my money and trade with it in foreign parts, so that 
I might turn it over with advantage. But I always 
met with refusal. And now that thou art poor, with 
only an empty ship, thou comest to me to ask for a 
loan. What if again tempest should fall on thee, and 
wreck and ruin be thy lot, where should I look for 
my money ? Thou art poor. If I were to sell thy 
house it would not fetch much. Nay, if I am to lend 
thee money thou must provide a surety, to whom I 



ro6 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

may apply, and who will repay me, should accident 
befall thee. Go, find security, and I will find the 
money." 

So Theodore went to his best friend, and told him 
the circumstances, and asked him to stand surety for 
him to the Jew. 

'•'Dear friend," answered he, "I should be most 
happy to oblige you ; but I am a poor man, I have 
not as much money in the world as would suffice. 
The Hebrew would not accept me as surety, he knows 
the state of my affairs too well. But I will do for 
you what little I can. We will go together to some 
merchants, and together beseech them to 'stand 
security for you to the Jew." 

So the two friends went to a rich merchant with 
whom they were acquainted, and told him what they 
wanted ; but he blustered and turned red, and said, 
" Away with you, fellows ; who ever heard of such 
insolence as that two needy beggars should ask a 
man of substance like me to go with them to the den 
of a cursed infidel Jew. God be thanked ! I have no 
dealings with Jews. I never have spoken to one in 
my life, and never give them a greeting when I pass 
any in street or market-place. A man who goes to 
the Jews to-day, goes to the dogs to-morrow, and to 
the devil the day after." 

The friends visited other merchants, but with like 
ill-success. Theodore had spent the day fasting, and 
he went supperless to bed, very hopeless, and with 
the prospect growing more distinct of being obliged 
to put on the cowl of the monk, a prospect which 
somehow or other he did not relish. 



ABRAM THE USURER. 107 

Next morning he started from home to tell Abram 
his failure. His way was through the great square 
called the Copper-Market before the Imperial palace. 
Now there stood there a porch consisting of four 
pillars, which supported a dome covered with brazen 
tiles, the whole surmounted by a cross, on the east 
side of which, looking down on the square, and across 
over the sparkling Bosphorus to the hills of Asia, was 
a large, solemn figure of the Crucified. This porch 
and cross had been set up by Constantine the Great, 1 
and had been restored by Anastasius. 
^As Theodore sped through the Copper-Market in 
the morning, he looked up; the sky was of the deepest 
gentian blue. Against it, glittering like gold in the 
early sun, above the blazing, brazen tiles, stood the 
great cross with the holy form thereon. Theodore 
halted, in his desolation, doubt and despair, and 
looked up at the figure. It was in the old, grave 
Byzantine style, very solemn, without the pain ex- 
pressed in Mediaeval crucifixes, and like so many 
early figures of the sort was probably vested and 
crowned. 

A sudden inspiration took hold of the ruined man. 
He fell on his knees, stretched his hands towards the 

1 This famous figure was cast down and broken by Leo the 
Isaurian in 730, a riot ensued, the market-women interfering 
with the soldiers, who were engaged on pulling down the figure, 
they shook the ladders and threw down one who was engaged 
in hacking the face of the figure. This led to the execution of 
ten persons, among them Gregory, head of the bodyguard, and 
Mary, a lady of the Imperial family. The Empress Irene set 
up a mosaic figure in its place. This was again destroyed by 
Leo the Armenian, and again restored after his death by Theo- 
philus in 829. 



io8 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

shining form, and cried, "Lord Jesus Christ! the hope 
of the whole earth, the only succour of all who are 
cast down, the sure confidence of those that look to 
Thee ! All on whom I could lean have failed me. I 
have none on earth on whom I can call. Do Thou, 
Lord, be surety for me, though I am unworthy to 
ask it." Then filled with confidence he rose from his 
knees, and ran to the house of Abram, and bursting 
in on him said, " Be of good cheer, I have found a 
Surety very great and noble and mighty. Trust thy 
money, He will keep it safe." 

Abram answered, "Let the man come, and sign the 
deed and see the money paid over." 

" Nay, my brother," said Theodore ; " come thou 
with me. I have hurried in thus to bring thee to him." 

Then Abram went with Theodore, who led him to 
the Copper-Market, and bade him be seated, and then 
raising his finger, he pointed to the sacred form hang- 
ing on the cross, and, full of confidence, said to the 
Hebrew, " There, friend, thou could'st not have a 
better security than the Lord of heaven and earth. 
I have besought Him to stand for me, and I know 
He is so good that He will not deny me." 

The Jew was perplexed. He said nothing for a 
moment or two, and then, wondering at the man's 
faith, answered, " Friend, dost thou not know the 
difference between the faith of a Christian and of a 
Hebrew ? How can'st thou ask me to accept as thy 
surety, One whom thou believest my people to have 
rejected and crucified? However, I will trust thee, for 
thou art a God-fearing and an honest man, and I will 
risk my money." 



ABRAM THE USURER. 109 

So they twain returned to the Jew's quarters, and 
Abram counted out fifty pounds of gold, in our money 
about ^"2,400. He tied the money up in bags, and 
bade his servants bear it after Theodore. And Abram 
and the glad merchant came to the Copper-Market, 
and then the Jew ordered that the money bags should 
be set down under the Tetrastyle where was the great 
crucifix. Then said the Hebrew usurer, " See, Theo- 
dore, I make over to thee the loan here before thy 
God." And there, in the face of the great image of 
his Saviour, Theodore received the loan, and swore to 
deal faithfully by the Jew, and to restore the money 
to him with usury. 

■ After this, the merchant bought a cargo for his 
vessel, and hired sailors, and set sail for Syria. He 
put into port at Tyre and Sidon, and traded with his 
goods, and bought in place of them many rich Oriental 
stuffs, with spices and gums, and when his ship was 
well laden, he sailed for Constantinople. 

But again misfortune befell him. A storm arose, 
and the sailors were constrained to throw the bales of 
silk, and bags of costly gums, and vessels of Oriental 
chasing into the greedy waves. But as the ship 
began to fill, they were obliged to get into the boat 
and escape to land. The ship keeled over and drifted 
into shallow water. When the storm abated they got 
to her, succeeded in floating her, and made the best 
of their way in the battered ship to Constantinople, 
thankful that they had preserved their lives. But 
Theodore was in sad distress, chiefly because he had 
lost Abram's money. " How shall I dare to face the 
man who dealt so generously by me ? " he said to 



no HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

himself. " What shall I say, when he reproaches me ? 
What answer can I make to my Surety for having 
lost the money entrusted to me ? " 

j Now when Abram heard that Theodore had arrived 
in Constantinople in his wrecked vessel with the loss 
of all his cargo, he went to him at once, and found 
the man prostrate in his chamber, the pavement wet 
with his tears of shame and disappointment. Abram 
laid his hand gently on his shoulder, and said, in a 
kind voice, " Rise, my brother, do not be downcast ; 
give glory to God who rules all things as He wills, 
and follow me home. God will order all for the 
best." 

I Then the merchant rose, and followed the Jew, but 
he would not lift his eyes from the ground, for he was 
ashamed to look him in the face. Abram was 
troubled at the distress of his friend, and he said to 
him, as he shut the door of his house, " Let not thy 
heart be broken with overmuch grief, dearest friend, 
for it is the mark of a wise man to bear all things 
with firm mind. See ! I am ready again to lend thee 
fifty pounds of gold, and may better fortune attend 
thee this time. I trust that our God will bless the 
money and multiply it, so that in the end we shall 
lose nothing by our former misadventure." 

\ " Then," said Theodore, " Christ shall again stand 
security for me. Bring the money to the Tetrastyle." 

Therefore again the bags of gold were brought before 
the cross, and when they had then been made over to 
the merchant, Abram said, "Accept, Master Theodore, 
this sum of fifty pounds of gold, paid over to thee 
before thy Surety, and go in peace, And may the 



ABRAM THE USURER. m 

Lord God prosper thee on thy journey, and make 
plain the way before thee. And remember, that 
before this thy Surety thou art bound to me for a 
hundred pounds of gold." 

I Having thus spoken, Abram returned home. 
Theodore repaired and reloaded his ship, engaged 
mariners and made ready to sail. But on the day 
that he was about to depart, he went into the Copper- 
Market, and kneeling down, with his face towards 
the cross, he prayed the Lord to be his companion 
and captain, and to guide him on his journey, and 
bring him safe through all perils with his goods back 
to Byzantium once more. 

\ Then he went on to the house of Abram to 
bid him farewell. And the Jew said to him, " Keep 
thyself safe, brother, and beware now of trusting thy 
ship to the sea at the time of equinoctial gales. Thou 
hast twice experienced the risk, run not into it again. 
Winter at the place whither thou goest, and that I 
may know how thou farest, if thou hast the oppor- 
tunity, send me some of the money by a sure hand. 
Then there is less chance of total ruin, for if one 
portion fails, the other is likely to be secure." 

Theodore approved of this advice, and promised to 
follow it ; so then the Jew and the Christian parted 
with much affection and mutual respect, for each 
knew the other to be a good and true man, fearing 
God, and seeking to do that which is right. This 
time Theodore turned his ship's head towards the 
West, intending to carry his wares to the markets of 
Spain. He passed safely through the Straits of 
Hercules, and sailed North. Then a succession of 



U2 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

steady strong breezes blew from the South and swept 
him on so that he could not get into harbour till he 
reached Britain. He anchored in a bay on the rugged 
Cornish coast, in the very emporium of tin and lead, 
in the Cassiterides famed of old for supplying ore 
precious in the manufacture of bronze. He readily 
disposed of all his merchandise, and bought as much 
tin and lead as his ship would hold. His goods had 
sold so well, and tin and lead were so cheap that he 
found he had fifty pounds in gold in addition to the 
cargo. 

The voyage back from Britain to Byzantium was 
long and dangerous, and Theodore was uneasy. He 
found no other ships from Constantinople where he 
was, and no means presented themselves for sending 
back the money in part, as he had promised. He was 
a conscientious man, and he wished to keep his 
word. 

He set sail from Cornwall before the summer was 
over, passed safely through the straits into the Medi- 
terranean, but saw no chance of reaching Constanti- 
nople before winter. He would not again risk his 
vessel in the gales of the equinox, and he resolved to 
winter in Sicily. He arrived too late in the year to 
be able to send a message and the money to Abram. 
His promise troubled him, and he cast about in his 
mind how to keep his word. 

At last, in the simple faith which coloured the 
whole life of the man, he made a very solid wooden 
box and tarred it well internally and externally. 
Then he inclosed in it the fifty pounds of gold he had 
made by his goods in Britain over and above his 



ABRAM THE USURER. 113 

lading of lead and tin, and with the money he put a 
letter, couched in these terms : 

; " In the name of my heir and God, my Lord and 
Saviour Jesus Christ who is also my Surety for a 
large sum of money, I, Theodore, humbly address 
my master Abram, who, with God, is my benefactor 
and creditor. 

* " I would have thee know, Master Abram, that 
we all, by the mercy of God, are in good health. 
God has verily prospered us well and brought our 
merchandise to a good market. And now, see ! I 
send thee fifty pounds of gold, which I commit to the 
care of my Surety, and He will convey the money 
safely to thy hands. Receive it from me and do not 
forget us. Farewell." 

^ Then he fastened up the box, and raised his eyes 
to heaven, and prayed to God, saying : " O Lord 
Jesus Christ, Mediator between God and Man, Who 
dwellest in Heaven, but hast respect unto the lowly ; 
hear the voice of thy servant this day ; because Thou 
hast proved Thyself do me a good and kind Surety, I 
trust to Thee to return to my benefactor and creditor, 
Abram, the money I promised to send him. Trusting 
in Thee, Lord, I commit this little box to the sea ! " 

So saying he flung the case containing the gold 
and the letter into the waves; and standing on a cliff 
watched it floating on the waters, rising and falling on 
the glittering wavelets, gradually drifting further and 
further out to sea, till it was lost to his sight, and 
then, nothing doubting but that the Lord Christ 
would look after the little box and guide it over the 
waste of waters to its proper destination, he went 

H 



ii 4 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

back to his lodging, and told the ship pilot what he 
had done. The sailor remained silent wondering in 
his mind at the great faith of his master. Then his 
rough heart softened, and he knelt down and blessed 
and praised God. 

That night Theodore had a dream, and in the 
morning he told it to the pilot. 

\ " I thought," said he, " that I was back in Byzan- 
tium, and standing in the Copper-Market before the 
great cross with Christ on it. And I fancied in my 
dream that Abram was at my side. And I looked, 
and saw him hold up his hands, and receive the box 
in them, and the great figure of Christ said, ' See, 
Abram, I give thee what Theodore committed to my 
trust.' And, thereupon, I awoke trembling. So now 
I am quite satisfied that the gold is in safe keeping,, 
and will infallibly reach its destination." 

The summer passed, the storms of autumn had 
swept over the grey sea, and torn away from the 
trees the last russet leaves ; winter had set in ; yet 
Abram had received no news of Theodore. 

He did not doubt the good faith of his friend, but 
he began to fear that ill-luck attended him. He had 
risked a large sum, and would feel the loss severely 
should this cargo be lost like the former one. He 
talked the matter over with his steward, and con- 
sidered it from every imaginable point of view. His 
anxiety took him constantly to the shore to watch 
the ships that arrived, hoping to hear news by some 
of them, and to recover part of his money. He hardly 
expected the returnof Theodore after theinjunctions he 
had given him not to risk his vessel in a stormy season. 



ABRAM THE USURER. 115 

>One day he was walking with his steward by the 
sea-side, when the waves were more boisterous than 
usual. Not a ship was visible. All were in winter 
quarters. Abram drew off his sandals, and began to 
wash his feet in the sea water. Whilst so doing he 
observed something floating at a little distance. 
With the assistance of his steward he fished out a 
box black with tar, firmly fastened up, like a solid 
cube of wood. Moved by curiosity he carried the 
box home, and succeeded with a little difficulty in 
forcing it open. Inside he found a letter, not directed, 
but marked with three crosses, and a bag of gold. It 
need hardly be said that this was the box Theodore 
had entrusted to Christ, and his Surety had fulfilled 
His trust and conveyed it to the hands of the creditor. 

Next spring Theodore returned to Constantinople 
in safety. As soon as he had disembarked, he hastened 
to the house of Abram to tell him the results of his 
voyage. 

The Jewish usurer, wishing to prove him, feigned 
not to understand, when Theodore related how he 
had sent him fifty pounds of gold, and made as though 
he had not received the money. But the merchant 
was full of confidence, and he said, " I cannot under- 
stand this, brother, for I enclosed the money in a box 
along with a letter, and committed it to the custody 
of my Saviour Christ, Who has acted as Surety for 
me unworthy. But as thou sayest that thou hast not 
received it, come with me, and let us go together be- 
fore the crucifix, and say before it that thou hast not 
had the money conveyed to thee, and then I will be- 
lieve thy word." 



n6 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

Abram promised to accompany his friend, and ris- 
ing from their seats, they went together to the 
Copper-Market. And "when they came to the Tetra- 
style, Theodore raised his hands to the Crucified, and 
said, "My Saviour and Surety, didst Thou not restore 
the £o!d to Abram that I entrusted to Thee for that 



purpose 



?" 



There was something so wonderful, so beautiful, in 
the man's faith, that Abram was overpowered ; and 
withal there was the evidence that it was not mis- 
placed so clear to the Jew, that the light of conviction 
like a dazzling sunbeam darted into his soul, and 
Theodore saw the Hebrew usurer fall prostrate on 
the pavement, half fainting with the emotion which 
oppressed him. 

Theodore ran and fetched water in his hands and 
sprinkled his face, and brought the usurer round. 
And Abram said, " As God liveth, my friend, I will 
not enter into my house till I have taken thy Lord 
and Surety for my Master." A crowd began to gather 
and it was bruited abroad that the Jewish usurer 
sought baptism. And when the story reached the 
ears of the Emperor Heraclius, he glorified God. 
So Abram was put under instruction, and was bap- 
tised by the patriarch Sergius. 1 

And after seven days a solemn procession was in- 
stituted through the streets of Constantinople to the 
Copper-Market, in which walked the emperor and 
the patriarch, and all the clergy of the city ; and the 
box which had contained the money was conveyed 

1 Sergius was patriarch of Constantinople between 610 and 
638. He embraced the Monothelite heresy. 



ABRAM THE USURER. 117 

by them to the Tetrastyle and laid up, along with the 
gold and the letter before the image, to be a memorial 
of what had taken place to all generations. And 
thenceforth the crucifix received the common appella- 
tion of Antiphonetos. or the Surety. 

As for the tin and lead with which the vessel of 
Theodore was freighted, it sold for a great price, so 
that both he and Abram realised a large sum by the 
transaction. But neither would keep to himself any 
portion of it, but gave it all to the Church of S. 
Sophia, and therewith a part of the sanctuary was 
overlaid with silver. Then Theodore and his wife, 
with mutual consent, gave up the world and retired 
into monastic institutions. 

Abram afterwards built and endowed an oratory 
near the Tetrastyle, and Sergius ordained him priest 
and his two sons deacons. 

Thus ends this strange and very beautiful story, which 
I have merely condensed from the somewhat prolix 
narrative of the Byzantine preacher. The reader will-, 
probably agree with me that if sermons in the 19th, 
centurv were as entertaining as this of the 10th, 
fewer people would be found to go to sleep during 
their delivery. 

I have told the tale as related by the preacher. 
But there are reasons which awaken suspicion that he 
somewhat erred as to his dates ; but that, nevertheless 
the story is really not without a foundation of fact. To- 
wards the close of the oration the preacher points to the 
ambone, and the thusiasterion, and bids his hearers 
remark how they are overlaid with silver, and this he 
says was the silver that Abram, the wealthy Jewish 



nS HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

usurer, and Theodore, the merchant, gave to the 
Church of S. Sophia. 

Now it happens that we have got a contemporary- 
record of this overlaying of the sanctuary with silver ; 
we know from the pen of Procopius of Gaza that it 
took place in the reign of Justinian in A.D. 537. 1 

This was preparatory to the dedication of the great 
Church, when the Emperor and the wealthy citizens 
of Byzantium were lavishly contributing to the adorn- 
ment of the glorious building. 

We can quite understand how that the new convert 
and the grateful merchant were carried away by the 
current of the general enthusiasm, and gave all their 
silver to the plating of the sanctuary of the new 
Church. Procopius tells us that forty thousand 
pounds of silver were spent in this work. Not all of 
this, however, could have been given by Abram and 
Theodore. 

If this then were the date of the conversion of 
Abram, for Heraclius we must read Justinian, and for 
Sergius we must substitute Mennas. As the sermon 
was not preached till four hundred years after, the 
error can be accounted for, one imperial benefactor of 
the Church was mistaken for another. 

Now about the time of Justinian, we know from 
other sources that there was a converted Jew named 
Abram who founded and built a church and 
monastery in Constantinople, and which in after 
times was known as the Abramite Monastery. We 
are told this by John Moschus. We can not fix the 
exact date of the foundation, Moschus heard about 

1 Fabricius, Bibl. Graeca, Ed. Harles, T.X. p. 124, 125. 



ABRAM THE USURER. 119 

A.D. 600 from the abbot John Rutilus, who had heard 
it from Stephen the Moabite, that the Monastery of 
the Abramites had been constructed by Abram who 
afterwards was raised to the metropolitan See of 
Ephesus. We may put then the foundation of the 
monastery at about A.D. 540. 

Now Abram of Ephesus succeeded Procopius who 
was bishop in 560 ; and his successor was Rufinus in 
597. The date of the elevation of Abram to the 
metropolitan throne of Ephesus is not known exactly, 
but it was probably about 565. 

There is, of course, much conjecture in thus 
identifying the usurer Abram with Abram, Bishop of 
Ephesus ; but there is certainly a probability that 
they were identical ; and if so, then one more pretty 
story of the good man survives. After having built 
the monastery in Constantinople, Moschus tells us 
that Abram went to Jerusalem, the home to which a 
Jewish heart naturally turns, and there he set to work 
to erect another monastery. Now there was among 
the workmen engaged on the building a mason who 
ate but sparingly, conversed with none, but worked 
diligently, and prayed much in his hours of relaxation 
from labour. 

Abram became interested in the man, and called 
him to him, and learned from him his story. It was 
this. The mason had been a monk in the Theodorian 
Monastery along with his brother. The brother 
weary of the life, had left and fallen into grave moral 
disorders. Then this one now acting as mason had 
gone after him, laid aside his cowl and undertaken 
the same daily toil as the erring brother, that he 



120 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

might be with him, waiting his time when by means 
of advice or example he might draw the young man 
from his life of sin. But though he had laid aside 
the outward emblems of his monastic profession, he 
kept the rule of life as closely as he was able, culti- 
vating prayer and silence and fasting. Then Abram 
deeply moved, said to the monk-mason : " God will 
look on thy fraternal charity ; be of good courage, 
He will give thee thy brother at thy petition." 



Sopbie Hpit36cb. 

'(SOME are born great," said Malvolio, strutting in 
yellow stockings, cross-gartered, before Olivia, " some 
achieve greatness," and with a smile, " some have 
greatness thrust upon them." 

Of the latter was Sophie Sabine Apitzsch. She 
was not born great, she was' the daughter of an 
armourer. She hardly can be said to have achieved 
greatness, though she did attain to notoriety ; what 
greatness she had was thrust on her, not altogether 
reluctant to receive it. But the greatness was not 
much, and was of an ambiguous description. She 
was treated for a while as a prince in disguise, and 
then became the theme of an opera, of a drama, and 
of a novel. For a hundred years her top-boots were 
preserved as historical relics in the archives of the 
House of Saxony, till in 1813 a Cossack of the 
Russian army passing through Augustenburg, saw, 
desired, tried on, and marched off with them ; and 
her boots entered Paris with the Allies. 

About five-and-twenty miles from Dresden lived in 
1 714 a couple of landed proprietors, the one called 
Volkmar, and the other von Giinther, who fumed 
with fiery hostility against each other, and the cause 
of disagreement was, that the latter wrote himself von 
Gtinther. Now, to get a von before the name makes 
a great deal of difference : it purifies, nay, it alters 



122 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

the colour of the blood, turning it from red to blue. 
No one in Germany can prefix von to his name as 
any one in England can append Esq. to his. He 
must receive authorisation by diploma of nobility 
from his sovereign. 

George von Gtinther had been, not long before, 
plain George Gtinther, but in 1712 he had obtained 
from the Emperor Charles VI. a patent of nobility, 
or gentility, they are the same abroad, and the motive 
that moved his sacred apostolic majesty to grant the 
patent was — as set forth therein — that an ancestor of 
George Gtinther of the same name " had sat down to 
table with the elector John George II. of Saxony ;" 
and it was inconceivable that a mere citizen could 
have been suffered to do this, unless there were some 
nobility in him. George von Gtinther possessed an 
estate which was a manor, a knight's fee, at Jagerhof, 
and he was moreover upper Forester and Master of 
the Fisheries to the King-elector of Saxony, and 
Sheriff of Chemnitz and Frankenberg. He managed 
to marry his daughters to men blessed with von before 
their names, one to von Bretschneider, Privy-Coun- 
cillor of War, the other to a Major von Wollner. 

Now, all this was gall and wormwood to Councillor- 
of-Agriculture, Daniel Volkmar, who lived on his 
paternal acres at Hetzdorf, of which he was hereditary 
chief magistrate by virtue of his lordship of the acres. 
This man had made vain efforts to be ennobled. He 
could not find that any ancestor of his had sat at 
table with an elector ; and, perhaps, he could not 
scrape together sufficient money to induce his sacred 
apostolic majesty to overlook this defect. As he 



SOPHIE APITZSCH. 123 

•could not get his diploma, he sought how he might 
injure his more fortunate neighbour, and this he did 
by spying out his acts, watching for neglect of his 
duties to the fishes or the game, and reporting him 
anonymously to head-quarters. Giinther knew well 
enough who it was that sought to injure him, and, as 
Volkmar believed, had invited- some of the game- 
keepers to shoot him ; accordingly, Volkmar never 
rode or walked in the neighbourhood of the royal 
forests and fish-ponds unarmed, and without servants 
carrying loaded muskets. 

One day a brother magistrate, Pockel by name, 
came over to see him about a matter that puzzled 
him. There had appeared in the district under his 
jurisdiction a young man, tall, well-built, handsome, 
but slightly small-pox-pitted, who had been arrested 
by the police for blowing a hunting-horn. Now 
ignoble lips might not touch a hunting-horn, and for 
any other than breath that issued out of noble lungs 
to sound a note on such a horn was against the 
laws. 

"Oh," said Volkmar, "if he has done this, and is 
not a gentleman — lock him up. What is his name ? " 

" He calls himself Karl Marbitz." 

" But I, even I, may not blow a blast on a horn — 
that scoundrel Giinther may. Deal with the fellow 
Marbitz with the utmost severity." 

" But — suppose he may have the necessary qualifi- 
cation ? " 

" How can he without a von before his name ? " 

" Suppose he be a nobleman, or something even 
higher, in disguise ? " 



i2 4 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

" What, in disguise ? Travelling incognito ? Our 
Crown Prince is not at Dresden." 1 

" Exactly. All kinds of rumours are afloat 
concerning this young man, who is, indeed, 
about the Crown Prince's age ; he has been lodg- 
ing with a baker at Aue, and there blowing the 
horn." 

" I'll go with you and see him. I will stand bail 
for him. Let him come to me. Hah-hah ! George 
von Glinther, hah-hah ! " 

So Volkmar, already more than half disposed to 
believe that the horn-blower was a prince in disguise, 
rode over to the place where he was in confinement, 
saw him, and lost what little doubt he had. The up- 
right carriage, the aristocratic cast of features, the 
stand-off manners, all betokened the purest of blue 
blood — all were glimmerings of that halo which sur- 
rounds sovereignty. 

The Crown Prince of Saxony was away — it was 
alleged, in France — making the grand tour, but, was 
it not more likely that he was going the round of the 
duchy of Saxony, inquiring into the wants and wrongs 
of the people ? If so, who could better assist him to 
the knowledge of these things, than he, Volkmar, and 
who could better open his eyes to the delinquencies 
of high-placed, high-salaried officials — notably of the 
fisheries and forests ? 

" There is one thing shakes my faith," said Pockel : 
" our Crown Prince is not small-pox marked." 

"That is nothing," answered Volkmar eagerly. 

1 Augustus the Strong- was King of Poland and Elector of 
Saxony. 



SOPHIE APITZSCH. 125 

" His Serenity has caught the infection in making his 
studies among the people." 

" And then — he is so shabbily dressed." 

"That is nothing — it is the perfection of disguise." 

Volkmar carried off the young man to his house, 
and showed him the greatest respect, insisted on his 
sitting in the carriage facing the horses, and would 
on no account take a place at his side, but seated 
himself deferentially opposite him. 

On reaching Hetzdorf, Volkmar introduced his 
wife and his daughter Joanna to the distinguished 
prince, who behaved to them very graciously, and 
with the most courtly air expressed himself charmed 
with the room prepared for him. 

Dinner was served, and politics were discussed ; 
the reserve with which the guest treated such subjects, 
the caution with which he expressed an opinion, 
served to deepen in Volkmar's mind the conviction 
that he had caught the Crown Prince travelling incog. 
After the servants had withdrawn, and when a good 
deal of wine — the best in the cellar — had been drunk, 
the host said confidentially in a whisper, "I see clearly 
enough what you are." 

" Indeed," answered the guest, "I can tell you what 
I am — by trade an armourer." 

"Ah, ha! but by birth— what ? " said Volkmar, 
slyly, holding up his glass and winking over it. 

" Well," answered the guest, " I will admit this — I 
am not what I appear." 

"And may I further ask your — I mean you — where 
you are at home ? " 

" I am a child of Saxony," was the answer. 



126 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

Afterwards, at the trial, the defendant insisted that 
this was exactly the reply made, whereas Volkmar 
asserted that the words were, " I am a child of the 
House of Saxony." But there can be no doubt that 
his imagination supplemented the actual words used 
with those he wished to hear. 

" The small-pox has altered you since you left 
home," said Volkmar. 

" Very likely. I have had the small-pox since I 
left my home." 

Volkmar at once placed his house, his servants, his 
purse, at the disposal of his guest, and his offer was 
readily accepted. 

It is now advisable to turn back and explain the 
situation, by relating the early history of this person, 
who passed under the name of Karl Marbitz, an 
armourer ; but whom a good number of people sus- 
pected of being something other than what he gave 
himself out to be, though only Volkmar and Pockel 
and one or two others supposed him to be the Crown 
Prince of Saxony. 

Sophie Sabine Apitzsch was born at Lunzenau in 
Saxony in 1692, was well brought up, kept to school, 
and learned to write orthographically, and to have a 
fair general knowledge of history and geography. 
When she left school she was employed by her father 
in his trade, which was that of an armourer. She 
was tall and handsome, somewhat masculine — in after 
years a Cossack got into her boots — had the small- 
pox, which, however, only slightly disfigured her. In 
17 10 she had a suitor, a gamekeeper, Melchior 
Leonhart. But Sophie entertained a rooted dislike 



SOPHIE APITZSCH. 127 

to marriage, and she kept her lover off for three years, 
till her father peremptorily ordered her to marry 
Melchior, and fixed the day for the wedding. Then 
Sophie one night got out of her own clothing, stepped 
into her father's best suit, and walked away in the 
garments of a man, and shortly afterwards appeared 
in Anspach under a feigned name, as a barber's 
assistant. Here she got into difficulties with the 
police, as she had no papers of legitimation, and to 
escape them, enlisted. She carried a musket for a 
month only, deserted, and resumed her vagabond life 
in civil attire, as a barber's assistant, and came to 
Leipzig, where she lodged at the Golden Cock. How 
she acquired the art, and how those liked it on whose 
faces she made her experiments with the razor, we are 
not told. 

At the Golden Cock lodged an athletic lady of the 
name of Anna Franke, stout, muscular, and able to 
lift great weights with her teeth, and with a jerk throw 
them over her shoulders. Anna Franke gave daily 
exhibitions of her powers, and on the proceeds main- 
tained herself and her daughter, a girl of seventeen. 
The stout - and muscular lady also danced on a tight 
rope, which with her bounces acted like a taut bow- 
string, projecting the athlete high into the air. 

The Fraulein Franke very speedily fell in love with 
the fine young barber, and proposed to her mother 
that Herr Karl should be taken into the concern, as 
he would be useful to stretch the ropes, and go round 
for coppers. Sophie was nothing loth to have her 
inn bill paid on these terms, but when finally the 
bouncing mother announced that her daughter's hand 



128 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

was at the disposal of Karl, then the situation became 
even more embarrassing than that at home from which 
Sophie had run away. The barber maintained her 
place as long as she could, but at last, when the 
endearments of the daughter became oppressive, and 
the urgency of the mother for speedy nuptials became 
vexatious, she pretended that the father, who was 
represented as a well-to-do citizen of Hamburg, 
must first be consulted. On this plea Sophie 
borrowed of Mother Franke the requisite money for 
her journey and departed, promising to return in a 
few weeks. Instead of fulfilling her promise, Sophie 
wrote to ask for a further advance of money, and 
when this was refused, disappeared altogether from 
the knowledge of the athlete and her daughter. 

On this second flight from marriage, Sophie 
Apitzsch met with an armourer named Karl Marbitz, 
and by some means or other contrived to get pos- 
session of his pass, leaving him instead a paper of 
legitimation made out under the name of Karl 
Gottfried, which old Mother Franke had induced the 
police to grant to the young barber who was engaged 
to marry her daughter. 

In June 1714, under the name of Marbitz, Sophie 
appeared among the Erz-Gebirge, the chain of moun- 
tains that separate Saxony from Bohemia, and begged 
her way from place to place, pretending to be a 
schoolmaster out of employ. After rambling about 
for some time, she took up her quarters with a baker 
at Elterlein. Here it was that for the first time a 
suspicion was aroused that she was a person of greater 
-consequence than she gave out. The rumour reached 



SOPHIE AP1TZSCH. 129 

the nearest magistrate that there was a mysterious 
stranger there who wore a ribbon and star of some 
order, and he at once went to the place to make 
inquiries, but found that Sophie had neither ribbon 
nor order, and that her papers declared in proper 
form who and what she was. At this time she fell ill 
at the baker's house, and the man, perhaps moved by 
the reports abroad concerning her, was ready to 
advance her money to the amount of £6 or £j. 
When recovered, she left the village where she had 
been ill, and went to another one, where she took up 
her abode with another baker, named Fischer, whom 
she helped in his trade, or went about practising upon 
the huntsman's horn. 

This amusement it was which brought her into 
trouble. Possibly she may not have known that the 
horn was a reserved instrument that might not be 
played by the ignoble. 

At the time that Volkmar took her out of the lock- 
up, and carried her off to his mansion in his carriage, 
:she was absolutely without money, in threadbare 
black coat, stockings ill darned, and her hair very 
much in want of powder. 

Hitherto her associates had been of the lowest 

classes ; she had been superior to them in education, 

in morals, and in character, and had to some extent 

imposed on them. They acknowledged in her an 

undefined dignity and quiet reserve, with unquestioned 

superiority in attainments and general tone of mind, 

and this they attributed to her belonging to a vastly 

higher class in society. 

Now, all at once she was translated into another 

1 



130 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

condition of life, one in which she had never moved 
before ; but she did not lose her head ; she main- 
tained the same caution and reserve in it, and never 
once exposed her ignorance so as to arouse suspicion 
that she was not what people insisted on believing 
her to be. She was sufficiently shrewd never by 
word to compromise herself, and afterwards, when 
brought to trial, she insisted that she had not once 
asserted that she was other than Karl Marbitz the 
armourer. Others had imagined she was a prince,, 
but she had not encouraged them in their delusion by 
as much as a word. That, no doubt, was true, but 
she accepted the honours offered and presents made her 
under this erroneous impression, without an attempt 
to open the eyes of the deluded to their own folly. 

Perhaps this was more than could be expected of" 
her. " Foolery," said the clown in " Twelfth Night," 
" does walk about the orb, like the sun ; it shines 
everywhere " — and what are fools but the natural 
prey of the clever ? 

Sophie had been ill, reduced to abject poverty, was, 
in need of good food, new clothes, and shelter ; all 
were offered, even forced upon her. Was she called, 
upon to reject them ? She thought not. 

Now that Volkmar had a supposed prince under 
his roof, he threw open his house to the neighbour- 
hood, and invited every gentleman he knew — except 
the von Gunthers. He provided the prince with a 
coat of scarlet cloth frogged and laced with gold, with 
a new hat, gave him a horse, filled his purse, and pro- 
vided him with those identical boots in which a 
century later a Cossack marched into Paris. 



SOPHIE APITZSCH. 131 

She was addressed by her host and hostess as 
" Your Highness," and " Your Serenity," and they 
sought to kiss her hand, but she waived away these 
exhibitions of servility, saying, " Let be — we will 
regard each other as on a common level." Once 
Volkmar said slyly to her, " What would your august 
father say if he knew you were here ? " 

" He would be surprised," was all the answer that 
could be drawn from her. One day the newspaper 
contained information of the Crown Prince's doings 
in Paris with his tutor and attendants. Volkmar 
pointed it out to her with a twinkle of the eye, saying, 
" Do not suppose I am to be hoodwinked by such 
attempts to deceive the public as that." 

In the mornings when the pseudo prince left the 
bedroom, outside the door stood Herr Volkmar, cap 
in hand, bowing. As he offered her a pinch of snuff 
from a gold tabatiere one day, he saw her eyes rest on 
it ; he at once said, " This belonged formerly to the 
Konigsmark." 

" Then," she replied, "it will have the double initials 
on it. ' A ' for Aurora." 

Now, argued Volkmar, how was it likely that his 
guest should know the scandalous story of Augustus 
I. and the fair Aurora of Kdnigsmark, mother of the 
famous French marshal, unless he had belonged to 
the royal family of Saxony P 1 He left out of account 
that Court scandal is talked about everywhere, and is 
in the mouths of all. Then he presented her with the 
snuff-box. Next he purchased for her a set of silver 

1 Aurora v. Konigsmark went out of favour in 1698 — probably 
then sold the gold snuff-box. She died in 1728. 



132 HISTORIC ODDITIES, 

plate for her cover, and ordered a ribbon and a star of 
diamonds, because it became one of such distinguished 
rank not to appear without a decoration ! As the 
girl said afterwards at her trial, she had but to hint a 
desire for anything, and it was granted her at once. 
Her host somewhat bored her with political disquisi- 
tions ; he was desirous of impressing on his illustrious 
guest what a political genius he was, and in his own 
mind had resolved to become prime minister of Saxony 
in the place of the fallen Beichlingen, who was said to 
have made so much money out of the State that he 
could buy a principality, and who, indeed, struck a 
medal with his arms on it surmounted by a princely 
crown. 

But Volkmar's ambition went further. As already 
stated he had a daughter — the modest Joanna ; what 
a splendid opportunity was in the hands of the 
scheming parents ! If the young prince formed an 
attachment for Joanna, surely he might get the 
emperor to elevate her by diploma to the rank of a 
princess, and thus Volkmar would see his Joanna 
Queen of Poland and Electress of Saxony. He and 
Frau Volkmar were far too good people to scheme to 
get their daughter such a place as the old Kbnigsmark 
had occupied with the reigning sovereign. Besides, 
Konigsmark had been merely created a countess, and 
who would crave to be a countess when she might 
be Queen ? and a favourite, when, by playing her 
cards well, she might become a legitimate wife ? 

So the old couple threw Joanna at the head of 
their guest, and did their utmost to entangle him. 
In the meantime the von Gtinthers were flaming- with 



SOPHIE APITZSCH. 133 

envy and rage. They no more doubted that the 
Volkmars had gotth? Crown Prince living with them, 
than did the Volkmars themselves. The whole 
neighbourhood flowed to the entertainments given in 
his honour at Hetzdorf ; only the von Gtinthers were 
shut out. But von Giinther met the mysterious 
stranger at one or two of the return festivities given 
by the gentry who had been entertained at Hetzdorf, 
and he seized on one of these occasions boldly to in- 
vite his Highness to pay him also a visit at his " little 
place ; " and what was more than he expected, the 
offer was accepted. 

In fact, the Apitzsch who had twice run away from 
matrimony, was becoming embarrassed again by the 
tenderness of Joanna and the ambition of the parents. 

The dismay of the Volkmars passes description 
when their guest informed them he was going to pay 
a visit to the hated rivals. 

Sophie was fetched away in the von Giinther 
carriage, and by servants put into new liveries for the 
occasion, and was received and entertained with the 
best at Jagerhof. Here, also, presents were made ; 
among others a silver cover for table was given her 
by the daughter of her host, who had married a 
major, and who hoped, in return, to see her husband 
advanced to be a general. 

She was taken to see the royal castle of Augustus- 
burg, and here a little difference of testimony occurs 
as to the observation she made in the chapel, which 
was found to be without an organ. At her trial it 
wa 3 asserted that she had said, " I must order an 
organ," but she positively swore she had said, " An 



134 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

organ ought to be provided." She was taken also to 
the mansion of the Duke of Holstein at Weisenburg, 
where she purchased one of his horses — that is to say, 
agreed to take it, and let her hosts find the money. 

The visit to the von Gttnthers did not last ten days, 
and then she was back again with the Volkmars, to 
their exuberant delight. Why she remained so short 
a time at Jagerhof does not appear. Possibly she 
may have been there more in fear of detection than 
at Hetzdorf. Now that the Volkmars had her back 
they would not let her out of their sight. They gave 
her two servants in livery to attend her ; they assured 
her that her absence had so affected Joanna that the 
girl had done nothing but weep, and had refused to 
eat. They began to press in their daughter's interest 
for a declaration of intentions, and that negotiations 
with the Emperor should be opened that a title of 
princess of the Holy Roman Empire might be ob- 
tained for her as preliminary to the nuptials. 

Sophie Apitzsch saw that she must again make a 
bolt to escape the marriage ring, and she looked 
about for an opportunity. But there was no evading 
the watch of the Volkmars, who were alarmed lest 
their guest should again go to the hated von 
Gtinthers. 

Well would it have been for the Volkmars had 
they kept the " prince " under less close surveillance, 
and allowed him to succeed in his attempts to get 
away. It would have been to their advantage in 
many ways. 

A fortnight or three weeks passed, and the horse 
bought of the Duke of Holstein had not been sent 



SOPHIE APITZSCH. 135 

In fact the Duke, when the matter was communicated 
to him, was puzzled. He knew that the Crown 
Prince was in Paris, and could not have visited his 
stables, and promised to purchase his horse. So he 
instituted inquiries before he consented to part with 
the horse, and at once the bubble burst. Police 
arrived at Hetzdorf to arrest the pretender, and con- 
vey her to Augustusburg, where she was imprisoned, 
till her trial. This was in February, 171 5. In her 
prison she had an apoplectic stroke, but recovered. 
Sentence was pronounced against her by the court at 
Leipzig in 17 16, that she should be publicly whipped 
out of the country. That is to say, sent from town 
to town, and whipped in the market-place of each, till 
she was sent over the frontier. In consideration of 
her having had a stroke, the king commuted the 
sentence to whipping in private, and imprisonment at 
his majesty's pleasure. 

She does not seem to have been harshly treated by 
the gaoler of Waldheim, the prison to which she was 
sent. She was given her own room, she dined at the 
table of the gaoler, continued to wear male clothes, 
and was cheerful, obedient, and contented. In 17 17 
both she and her father appealed to the king for 
further relaxation of her sentence, but this was refused. 
The prison authorities gave her the best testimony for 
good conduct whilst in their hands. 

In the same year, 171 7, the unfortunate Volkmar 
made a claim for the scarlet coat — which he said the 
moths were likely to eat unless placed on some one's 
back — the gold snuff-box, the silver spoons, dishes, 
forks, the horse, the watch, and various other things 



136 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

he had given Sophie, being induced to do so by false 
representations. The horse as well as the plate, the 
star, the snuff-box, the coat and the boots had all 
been requisitioned as evidence before her trial. The 
question was a hard one to solve, whether Herr 
Volkmar could recover presents, and it had to be 
transmitted from one court to another. An order of 
court dated January, 1722, required further evidence 
to be produced before purse, coat, boots, &c, could 
be returned to Volkmar — that is, seven years after 
they had been taken into the custody of the Court. 
The horse must have eaten more than his cost by this 
time, and the coat must have lost all value through 
moth-eating. The cost of proceedings was heavy, 
and Volkmar then withdrew from his attempt to re- 
cover the objects given to the false prince. 

But already — long before, by decree of October 
1717 — Sophie Apitzsch had been liberated. She left 
prison in half male, half female costume, and in this 
dress took service with a baker at Waldheim ; and 
we hear no more of her, whether she married, and 
when she died. 



peter IRielsen, 

On the 29th day of April in the year 1465, died 
Henry Strangebjerg, bishop of Ribe in Denmark, 
after having occupied the See for just ten years. For 
some days before his decease public, official prayer 
had been made for his recovery by the Cathedral 
Chapter, but in their hearts the Canons were impatient 
for his departure. Not, be it understood, that the 
Bishop was an unworthy occupant of the See of 
Liafdag the Martyr — on the contrary, he had been a 
man of exemplary conduct ; nor because he was harsh 
in his rule — on the contrary, he had been a lenient 
prelate. The reason why, when official prayer was 
made for his recovery, it was neutralised by private 
intercession for his removal, was solely this — his 
removal opened a prospect of advancement. 

The Cathedral Chapter of Ribe consisted of fifteen 
Canons, and a Dean or Provost, all men of family, 
learning and morals. Before the doctors had shaken 
their heads over the sick bed of Henry Strangebjerg, it 
was known throughout Ribe that there would be four 
candidates for the vacant throne. It was, of course, 
impossible for more than one man to be elected ; but 
as the election lay entirely and uncontrolledly in the 
hands of the Chapter, it was quite possible for a 
Canon to make a good thing out of an election with- 
out being himself elected. The bishops nominated 



138 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

to many benefices, and there existed then no law 
against pluralities. The newly chosen prelate, if he 
had a spark of gratitude, must reward those faithful 
men who had made him bishop. 

At 4 p.m. on April 29th the breath left the body of 
Henry Strangebjerg. At 4.15 p.m. the Chapter were 
rubbing their hands and drawing sighs of relief. But 
Thomas Lange, the Dean, rubbed his hands and drew 
his sigh of relief ten minutes earlier, viz., at 4.5 p.m., 
for he stood by the bed of the dying bishop. At 
3.25 p.m. Thomas Lange's nerves had received a 
great shock, for a flicker as of returning life had 
manifested itself in the sick man, and for a few 
minutes he really feared he might recover. At 
.4.10 p.m. Hartwig Juel, the Archdeacon, who had 
been standing outside the bishop's door, was seen 
running down the corridor with a flush in his cheeks. 
Through the keyhole he had heard the Dean exclaim : 
" Thank God ! " and when he heard that pious 
ejaculation, he knew that all dread of the Bishop's 
restoration was over. It was not till so late as 4.20 
p.m. that Olaf Petersen knew it. Olaf was kneeling 
in the Cathedral, in the Chapel of St. Lambert, the 
yellow chapel as it was called, absorbed in devotion, 
■consequently the news did not reach him till five 
minutes after the Chapter, twenty minutes after the 
vacation of the See. Olaf Petersen was a very holy 
man ; he was earnest and sincere. He was, above 
everything, desirous of the welfare of the Church and 
the advancement of religion. He was ascetic, deny- 
ing himself in food, sleep and clothing, and was 
profuse in his alms and in his devotions. He saw the 



PETER NIELSEN. 139 

worldliness, the self-seeking, the greed of gain and 
honours that possessed his fellows, and he was con- 
vinced that one thing was necessary for the salvation 
of Christianity in Ribe, and that one thing was his 
own election to the See. 

The other candidates were moved by selfish 
interests. He cared only for true religion. Pro- 
vidence would do a manifest injustice if it did not 
take cognizance of his integrity and interfere to give 
him the mitre. He was resolved to use no unworthy 
means to secure it. He would make no promises, 
offer no bribes — that is, to his fellow Canons, but he 
promised a silver candlestick to St. Lambert, and 
bribed St. Gertrude to intervene with the assurance 
of a pilgrimage to her shrine. 

We have mentioned only three of the candidates. 
The fourth was Jep Mundelstrup, an old and amiable 
man, who had not thrust himself forward, but had 
been put forward by his friends, who considered him 
sufficiently malleable to be moulded to their purposes. 

Jep was, as has been said, old ; he was so old that 
it was thought (and hoped), if chosen, his tenure of 
office would be but brief. Four or five years — under 
favourable circumstances, such as a changeable winter, 
a raw spring with east winds — he might drop off even 
sooner, and leave the mitre free for another scramble. 

The Kings of Denmark no longer nominated to 
the Sees, sent no conge d'ttire to the Chapter. They 
did not even appoint to the Canonries. Consequently 
the Canons had everything pretty much their own 
way, and had only two things to consider, to guide 
their determination — the good of the Church and 



140 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

their own petty interests. The expression " good of 
the Church " demands comment. " The good of the 
Church " was the motive, the only recognised motive, 
on which the Chapter were supposed to act. Practi- 
cally, however, it was non-existent as a motive. It 
was a mere figure of speech used to cloak selfish 
ambition. 

From this sweeping characterisation we must, how- 
ever, exclude Olaf Petersen, who did indeed regard 
pre-eminently the good of the Church, but then that 
good was, in his mind, inextricably involved with his 
own fortunes. He was the man to make religion a 
living reality. He was the man to bring the Church 
back to primitive purity. He could not blind his 
eyes to the fact that not one of the Canons beside 
himself cared a farthing for spiritual matters ; there- 
fore he desired the mitre for his own brows. 

The conclave at which the election was to be made 
was fixed for the afternoon of the day on which Henry 
Strangebjerg was to be buried, and the burial was 
appointed to take place as soon as was consistent 
with decency. 

The whole of the time between the death and the 
funeral was taken up by the Canons with hurrying 
to and from each other's residences, canvassing for 
votes. 

Olaf Petersen alone refrained from canvassing, he 
spent his whole time in fasting and prayer, so anxious 
was he for the welfare of the Church and the advance- 
ment of true religion. 

At length — Boom ! Boom ! Boom ! The great bell 
of the minster tower summoned the Chapter to the 



PETER NIELSEN. 141 

hall of conclave. Every Canon was in his place, 
fifteen Canons and the provost, sixteen in all. It was 
certain that the provost, although chairman, would 
claim his right to vote, and exercise it, voting for 
himself. It was ruled that all voting should be open, 
for two reasons — that the successful candidate might 
know who had given him their shoulders on which to 
mount, and so reward these shoulders by laying many 
benefices upon them, and secondly, that he might 
know who had been his adversaries, and so might 
exclude them from preferments. Every one believed 
he would be on the winning side, no one supposed the 
other alternative possible. 

The candidates, as already intimated, were four. 
Thomas Lange, the Dean, who belonged to a good, 
though not wealthy family. He had been in business 
before taking orders, and brought with him into the 
Church practical shrewdness and business habits. 
He had husbanded well the resources of the Chapter, 
and had even enlarged its revenue by the purchase of 
three farms and a manor. 

The second candidate, Hartwig Juel, was a member 
of a powerful noble family. His brother was at 
Court and highly regarded by King Christian. His 
election would gratify the king. Hartwig Juel was 
Archdeacon. 

The third candidate was the good old Jep Mundel- 
strup ; and the fourth was the representative of the 
ascetic, religious party, which was also the party of 
reform, Olaf Petersen. 

The Dean was, naturally, chairman. Before tak- 
ing the chair he announced his intention of voting. 



142 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

The four candidates were proposed, and the votes 
taken. 

The Dean numbered 4. 

Hartwig Juel numbered 4. 

Jep Mundelstrup numbered 4. 

Olaf Petersen numbered 4. 

Moreover, each candidate had voted for himself. 

What was to be done? The Chapter sat silent, 
looking about them in each others' faces. 

Then the venerable Jep Mundelstrup, assisted by 
those who sat by him, staggered to his feet, and lean- 
ing on his staff, he mumbled forth this address : " My 
reverend brothers, it was wholly without my desire 
and not in furtherance of any ambition of mine, that 
my name was put up as that of a candidate for the 
vacant mitre of the Holy See of Ribe. I am old and 
infirm. With the patriarch Jacob I may say, ' Few 
and evil have been the days of the years of my life/ 
and I am not worthy to receive so great an honour. 
Evil my days have been, because I have had only my 
Canonry and one sorry living to support me ; and 
there are comforts I should desire in my old age 
which I cannot afford. My health is notsound. I shrink 
from the responsibilities and labours of a bishopric* 
If I withdraw my candidature, I feel confident that the 
successful candidate will not forget my infirmities,. 
and the facility I have afforded for his election. I 
decline to stand, and at the same time, lest I should 
seem to pose in opposition to three of my excellent 
brethren, I decline also to vote." Then he sat down, 
amidst general applause. 

Here was an unexpected simplification of matters. 



PETER NIELSEN. 143- 

The Dean and Hartwig Juel cast kindly, even affec- 
tionate glances at those who had previously voted for 
Jep, Olaf Petersen looked up to heaven and prayed. 

Again, the votes were taken, and again the chair- 
man claimed his right to vote. 

When taken they stood thus : 

The Dean, 5. 

Hartwig Juel, 5. 

Olaf Petersen, 5. 

What was to be done ? Again the Chapter sat 
silent, rubbing their chins, and casting furtive glances, 
at each other. The Chapter was adjourned to the- 
same hour on the morrow. The intervening hours, 
were spent in negociations between the several parties,, 
and attempts made by the two first in combination to> 
force Olaf Petersen to resign his candidature. But 
Olaf was too conscientious a man to do this. He 
felt that the salvation of souls depended on his stay- 
ing the plague like Phinehas with his censer. 

Boom ! Boom ! Boom ! The Cathedral bell again 
summoned the conclave to the Chapter House. 

Before proceeding to business the Dean, as chair- 
man, addressed the electors. He was an eloquent 
man, and he set in moving words before them the 
solemnity of the duty imposed on them, the im- 
portance of considering only the welfare of the 
Church, and the responsibility that would weigh on 
them should they choose an unworthy prelate. He 
conjured them in tones vibrating with pathos, to put 
far from them all self-seeking thoughts, and to be 
guided only by conscience. Then he sat down. The 
votes were again taken. Jep Mundelstrup again. 



144 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

shaking his head, and refusing to vote. When counted, 
they stood thus. 

Thomas Lange, 5. 

Hartwig Juel, 5. 

Olaf Petersen, 5. 

Then up started the Dean, very red in the face, 
and said, " Really this is preposterous ! Are we to 
continue this farce ? Some of the brethren must 
yield for the general good. I would cheerfully with- 
draw my candidature, but for one consideration. You 
all know that the temporal affairs of the See have 
fallen into confusion. Our late excellent prelate was 
not a man of business, and there has been alienation, 
and underletting, and racking out of church lands, 
which I have marked with anxiety, and which I am 
desirous to remedy. You all know that I have this 
one good quality, I am a business man, understand 
account keeping, and look sharp after the pecuniary 
interests of the Chapter lands. It is essential that 
the lands of the See should be attended to by some 
practical man like myself, therefore I do not with- 
draw from my candidature, but therefore only — " 

Then up sprang Hartwig Juel, and said, " The very 
Reverend the Dean has well said, this farce must 
not continue. Some must yield if a bishop is to be 
elected. I would cheerfully withdraw from candida- 
ture but for one little matter. I hold in my hand a 
letter received this morning from my brother, who 
tells me that his most gracious majesty, King Chris- 
tian, expressed himself to my brother in terms of 
hope that I should be elected. You, my reverend 
brothers, all know that we are living in a critical 



PETER NIELSEN. i 4s 

time when it is most necessary that a close relation, a 
cordial relation, should be maintained between the 
Church and the State. Therefore, in the political 
interests of the See, but only in these interests, I 
cannot withdraw my candidature." 

Then all eyes turned on Olaf Petersen. His face 
was pale, his lips set. He stood up, and leaning 
forward said firmly, " The pecuniary and the politi- 
cal interests of the See are as nothing to me, its 
spiritual interests are supreme. Heaven is my wit- 
ness, I have no personal ambition to wear the mitre. 
I know it will cause exhausting labour and terrible 
responsibilities, from which I shrink. Nevertheless, 
seeing as I do that this is a period in the history of 
the Church when self-seeking and corruption have 
penetrated her veins and are poisoning her life-blood, 
seeing as I do that unless there be a revival of religion, 
and an attempt at reform be made within the Church, 
there will ensue such a convulsion as will overthrow 
her, therefore, and only therefore do I feel that I can 
not withdraw, from my candidature." 

" Very well," said the Dean in a crusty tone. 
" There is nothing for it but for us to vote again. 
Now at least we have clear issues before us, the 
temporal, the political, and the spiritual interests of 
the Church." The votes were again taken, and stood 
thus. 

The temporal interests, 5. 

The political interests, 5. 

The spiritual interests, 5. 

Here was a dead lock. It was clear that parties 
were exactly divided, and that none would yield. 

K 



146 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

After a pause of ten minutes, Jep Mundelstrup' 
was again helped to his feet. He looked round the 
Chapter with blinking eyes, and opened and shut his 
mouth several times before he came to speak. At 
last he said, in faltering tones, "My reverend brethren, 
it is clear to me that my resignation has complicated, 
rather than helped matters forward. Do not think I 
am about to renew my candidature, that I am not, 
but I am going to make a proposition to which I 
hope you will give attentive hearing. If we go on in 
this manner, we shall elect no one, and then his 
Majesty, whom God bless, will step in and nominate. '* 

" Hear, hear ! " from the adherents of Hartwig Juel. 

" I do not for a moment pretend that the nominee 
of his Majesty would not prove an excellent bishop, 
but I do fear that a nomination by the crown would 
be the establishment of a dangerous precedent." 

"Hear! hear!" from the adherents of Olaf Petersen. 

" At the same time it must be borne in mind that 
the temporal welfare of the See ought to be put in 
the hands of some one conversant with the condition 
into which they have been allowed to lapse." 

" Hear ! hear ! " from the adherents of Thomas 
Lange. 

" I would suggest, as we none of us can agree, that 
we refer the decision to an umpire." 

General commotion, and whispers, and looks of 
alarm. 

" How are we to obtain one at once conversant 
with the condition of the diocese, and not a partizan?" 
asked the Dean. 

" There is a wretched little village in the midst of 



PETER NIELSEN. 147 

the Roager Heath, cut off from communication with 
the world, in which lives a priest named Peter Nielsen 
on his cure, a man who is related to no one here, 
belongs, I believe, to no gentle family, and, therefore, 
would have no family interests one way or the other to 
bias him. He has the character of being a shrewd man 
of business, some of the estates of the Church are on 
the Roager Heath, and he knows how they have been 
treated, and I have always heard that he is a good 
preacher and an indefatigable parish priest. Let him 
be umpire. I can think of none other who would not 
be a partizan." 

The proposition was so extraordinary and unex- 
pected that the Chapter, at first, did not know what 
to think of it. Who was this Peter Nielsen ? No 
one knew of him anything more than what Jep Mun- 
delstrup had said, and he, it was believed, had drawn 
largely on his imagination for his facts. Indeed, he 
was the least known man among the diocesan clergy. 
It was disputed whether he was a good preacher. 
Who had heard him ? no one. Was it true that he 
was not a gentleman by birth ? No one knew to 
what family he belonged. In default of any other 
solution to the dead lock in which the Chapter stood, 
it was agreed by all that the selection of a bishop for 
Ribe should be left to Peter Nielsen of Roager. 

That same day, indeed as soon after the dissolution 
of the meeting as was possible, one of the Canons 
mounted his horse, and rode away to the Roager 
Heath. 

The village of Ro or Raa-ager, literally the rough 
or barren field, lay in the dead flat of sandy heath 



148 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

that occupies so large a portion of the centre and 
west coast of Jutland, and which goes by various 
names, as Randboll Heath and Varde Moor. In 
many places it is mere fen, where the water lies and 
stagnates. In others it is a dry waste of sand strewn 
with coarse grass and a few scant bushes. The 
village itself consisted of one street of cottages 
thatched with turf, and with walls built of the same, 
heather and grass sprouting from the interstices of 
the blocks. The church was little more dignified 
than the hovels. It was without tower and bell. 
Near the church was the parsonage. 

The Canon descended from his cob; he had ridden 
faster than was his wont, and was hot. He drew his 
sleeve across his face and bald head, and then threw 
the bridle over the gate-post. 

In the door of the parsonage stood a short, stout, 
rosy-faced, dark-eyed woman, with two little children 
pulling at her skirts. This was Maren Grubbe, the 
housekeeper of the pastor, at least that was her official 
designation. She had been many years at Roager 
with Peter Nielsen, and was believed to manage him 
as well as the cattle and pigs and poultry of the glebe. 
From behind her peered a shock-headed boy of about 
eight years with a very dirty face and cunning eyes. 

The Canon stood and looked at the woman, then 
at the children, and the woman and children stood 
and looked at him 

" Is this the house of the priest, Peter Nielsen ? " he 
asked. 

" Certainly, do you want him?" inquired the house- 
keeper. 



PETER NIELSEN. i 49 

" I have come from Ribe to see him on diocesan 
business." 

: ' Step inside," said the housekeeper curtly. " His 
reverence is not in the house at this moment, he is in 
the church saying his offices." 

Ji That's lies ! " shouted the dirty boy from behind. 
/'Dada is in the pigstye setting a trap for the 
rats." 

" Hold your tongue, Jens ! " exclaimed the woman, 
giving the boy a cuff which knocked him over. Then 
to the Canon she said, " Take a seat and I will go to 
the church after him." 

She went out with the two smaller children stap-o-er- 
ing at her skirts, tumbling, picking themselves up, 
going head over heels, crowing and squealing. 

When she was outside the house, the dirty boy sat 
upright on the floor, winked at the Canon, crooked 
his fingers, and said, " Follow me, and I will show 
you Dada." 

^-^The bald-headed ecclesiastic rose, and guided by 
the boy went into a back room, through a small 
window in which he saw into the pig-styes, and there, 
without his coat, in a pair of stained and patched 
breeches, and a blue worsted night-cap, over ankles 
in filth, was the parish priest engaged in setting a 
rat-trap. Outside, in the yard, the pigs were enjoying 
their freedom. Leisurely round the corner came the 
housekeeper with the satellites. " There, Peers ! " 
said she, " There is a reverend gentleman from the 
cathedral come after thee." 

" Then," said the pastor, slowly rising, " do thou, 
Maren, keep out of sight, and especially be careful 



ISO HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

not to produce the brats. Their presence opens the 
door to misconstruction." 

The Canon stole back to his seat, mopped his brow 
and head, and thought to himself that the Chapter 
had put the selection of a chief pastor into very queer 
hands. The nasty little boy began to giggle and 
snuffle • simultaneously. " Have you seen Dada ? 
Dada saying his prayers in there." 

" Who are you ? " asked the ecclesiastic stiffly of 
the child. 

" I'm Jens," answered the boy. 

" I know you are Jens, I heard your mother 
call you so. I presume that person is your 
mother." 

" That is my mother, but Dada is not my dada." 

" O, Jens, boy, Jens ! Truth above all things. 
Magna est Veritas et praevalebit." The Reverend 
Peter Nielsen entered, clean, in a cassock, and with a 
shovel hat on his head. 

"The children whom you have seen," said 
Peter Nielsen, "are the nephews and nieces of my 
worthy housekeeper, Maria Grubbe. She is a chari- 
table woman, and as her sister is very poor, and has 
a large family, my Maren, I mean my housekeeper, 
takes charge of some of the overflow."* 

"It is a great burden to you," said the Canon. 

Peter Nielsen shrugged his shoulders. "To clothe 

* In Norway, Denmark, Sweden, and Iceland, clerical 
celibacy was never enforced before the Reformation. Now 
and then a formal prohibition was issued by the bishops, but it 
was generally ignored. The clergy were married, openly and 
undisguisedly. 



PETER NIELSEN. 151 

the naked and give food to the hungry are deeds of 
mercy." 

" I quite understand, quite," said the Canon. 

" I only mentioned it," continued the parish priest, 
*' lest you should suppose — " 

" I quite understand," said the Canon, interrupting 
him, with a bow and a benignant smile. 

'And now," said Peter Nielsen, "I am at your 
service." 

Thereupon the Canon unfolded to his astonished 
hearer the nature of his mission. The pastor sat 
listening attentively with his head bowed, and his 
hands planted on his knees. Then, when his visitor 
had done speaking, he thrust his left hand into his 
trouser pocket and produced a palmful of carraway 
seed. He put some into his mouth, and began to 
chew it ; whereupon the whole room became scented 
with carraway. 

" I am fond of this seed," said the priest composedly, 
whilst he turned over the grains in his hand with the 
five fingers of his right. " It is good for the stomach, 
and it clears the brain. So I understand that there 
are three parties ? " 

_^" Exactly, there is that of Olaf Petersen, a narrow, 
uncompromising man, very sharp on the morals of 
the clergy ; there is also that of the Dean, Thomas 
Lange, an ambitious and scheming ecclesiastic ; and 
there is lastly that of the Archdeacon Hartwig Juel, 
one of the most amiable men in the world." 

" And you incline strongly to the latter ? " 

" I do — how could you discover that ? Juel is not 
a man to forp;et a friend who has done him a favour." 



IS? HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

" Now, see ! " exclaimed Peter Nielsen, " See the 
advantage of chewing carraway seed. Three minutes 
ago I knew or recollected nothing about Hartwig 
Juel, but I do now remember that five years ago he 
passed through Roager, and did me the honour of 
partaking of such poor hospitality as I was able to 
give. I supplied him and his four attendants, and 
six horses, with refreshment. Bless my soul ! the 
efficacy of carraway is prodigious ! I can now recall 
all that took place. I recollect that I had only hogs > 
puddings to offer the Archdeacon, his chaplain, and 
servants, and they ate up all I had. I remember also 
that I had a little barrel of ale which I broached for 
them, and they drank the whole dry. To be sure ! — 
I had a bin of oats, and the horses consumed every 
grain ! I know that the Archdeacon regretted that I 
had no bell to my church, and that he promised to 
send me one. He also assured me he would not 
leave a stone unturned till he had secured for me a 
better and more lucrative cure. I even sent a side of 
bacon away with him as a present — but nothing came 
of the promises. I ought to have given him a bushel 
of carraway. You really have no notion of the 
poverty of this living. I cannot now offer you any 
other food than buck-wheat brose, as I have no meat 
in the house. I can only give you water to drink as 
I am without beer. I cannot even furnish you with 
butter and milk, as I have not a cow." 
"^ Not even a cow ! " exclaimed the Canon. " I 
really am thankful for your having spoken so plainly 
to me. I had no conception that your cure was so 
poor. That the Archdeacon should not have fulfilled 



PETER NIELSEN. 153, 

the promises he made you is due to forgetfulness. 
Indeed, I assure you, for the last five years I have 
repeatedly seen Hartwig Juel strike his brow and 
exclaim, ' Something troubles me. I have made a 
promise, and cannot recall it. This lies on my 
conscience, and I shall have no peace till I recollect 
and discharge it' This is plain fact." 

" Take him a handful of carraway," urged the 
parish priest. 

" No — he will remember all when I speak to him,, 
unaided by carraway." 

" There is one thing T can offer you," said Peter 
Nielsen, "a mug of dill-water." 

" Dill-water ! what is that ? " 

"It is made from carraway. It is given to infants 
to enable them to retain their milk. It is good for 
adults to make them recollect their promises." 

"My dear good friend," said the Canon rising,. 
" your requirements shall be complied with to- 
morrow. I see you have excellent pasture here for 
sheep. Have you any ? " 

The parish priest shook his head. 

" That is a pity. That however can be rectified. 
Good-bye, rely on me. Qui pacem habet, se primum 
fiacat." 

When the Canon was gone, Peter Nielsen, who 
had attended him to the door, turned, and found 
Maren Grubbe behind him. 

" I say, Peers ! " spoke the housekeeper, nudging- 
him, "What is the meaning of all this? What was 
that Latin he said as he went away ? " 

" My dear, good Maren," answered the priest, " he 



154 HISTORIC ODDITIES* 

quoted a saying familiar to us clergy. At the altar 
is a little metal plate with a cross on it, and this is 
called the Pax, or Peace. During the mass the priest 
kisses it, and then hands it to his assistant, who kisses 
it in turn and passes it on so throughout the attend- 
ance. The Latin means this, ' Let him who has the 
Pax bless himself with it before giving it out of his 
hands/ and means nothing more than this: ' Charity 
begins at Home,' or — put more boldly still, ' Look 
out for Number I.' " 

" Now, see here," said the housekeeper, " you have 
been too moderate, Peers, you have not looked out 
sufficiently for Number I. Leave the next comer to 
me. No doubt that the Dean will send to you, in 
like manner as the Archdeacon sent to-day." 

"As you like, Maren, but keep the children in the 
background. Charity that thinketh no ill, is an un- 
common virtue." 

- Next morning early there arrived at the parsonage 
a waggon laden with sides of bacon, smoked beef, a 
hogshead of prime ale, a barrel of claret, and several 
sacks of wheat. It had scarcely been unloaded when 
a couple of milch cows arrived ; half an hour later 
came a drove of sheep. Peter Nielsen disposed of 
everything satisfactorily about the house and glebe. 
His eye twinkled, he rubbed his hands, and said to 
himself with a chuckle, " He who blesses, blesses first 
himself." 

In the course of the morning a rider drew up at 
the house door. Maren flattened her nose at the 
little window of the guest-room, and scrutinized the 
arrival before admitting him. Then she nodded her 



PETER NIELSEN. 155 

head, and whispered to the priest to disappear. A 
moment later she opened the door, and ushered a 
stout red-faced ecclesiastic into the room. 

"Is the Reverend Pastor at home?" he asked, 
bowing to Maren Grubbe ; " I have come to see him 
on important business." 

" He is at the present moment engaged with a sick 
parishioner. He will be here in a quarter of an hour. 
He left word before going out, that should your 
reverence arrive before his return — " 

" What ! I was expected ! " 

" The venerable the Archdeacon sent a deputation 
to see my master yesterday, and he thought it pro- 
bable that a deputation from the very Reverend the 
Dean would arrive to-day." 

" Indeed ! So Hartwig Juel has stolen a march on 
us." 

" Hartwig Juel had on a visit some little while ago 
made promises to my master of a couple of cows, a 
herd of sheep, some ale, wine, wheat, and so on, and 
he took advantage of the occasion to send all these 
things to us." 

" Indeed ! Hartwig Juel's practice is sharp." 

" Thomas Lange will make up no doubt for dila- 
toriness." 

" Humph • and Olaf Petersen, has he sent ? " 

" His deputation will, doubtless, come to-morrow, 
or even this afternoon." 

The Canon folded his hands over his ample paunch, 
and looked hard at Maren Grubbe. She was attired 
in her best. Her cheeks shone like quarendon apples, 
as red and glossy ; full of health — with a threat of 



156 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

temper, just as a hot sky has in it indications of a 
tempest. Her eyes were dark as sloes, and looked as 
sharp. She was past middle age, but ripe and strong; 
for all that. 

The fat Canon sat looking at her, twirling his 
thumbs like a little windmill, over his paunch, with- 
out speaking. She also sat demurely with her hands 
flat on her knees, and looked him full and firm in the 
face. 

" I have been thinking," said the Canon, " how well 
a set of silver chains would look about that neck, and 
pendant over that ample bosom." 

"Gold would look better," said Maren, and shut 
her mouth again. 

" And a crimson silk kerchief — " 

" Would do," interrupted the housekeeper, " for one 
who has not expectations of a crimson silk skirt." 

" Quite so." A pause, and the windmills recom- 
menced working. Presently squeals were heard in 
the back premises. One of the children had fallen, 
and hurt itself. 

" Cats ? " asked the Canon. 

" Cats," answered Maren. 

" Quite so," said the Canon. " I am fond of cats.' 

" So am I," said Maren. 
„— Then ensued an uproar. The door burst open, and. 
in tumbled little Jens with one child in his arms, the: 
other clinging to the seat of his pantaloons. These 
same articles of clothing had belonged to the Re- 
verend Peter Nielsen, till worn out, when at the re- 
quest of Maren, they had been given to her and cut 
down in length for Jens. In length they answered. 



FETER NIELSEN. 157 

The waistband was under the arms, indeed, but the 
legs were not too long. In breadth and capacity they 
were uncurtailed. 

" I cannot manage them, mother," said the boy. 
" It is of no use making me nurse. Besides, I want 
to see the stranger." 

" These children," said Maren, looking firmly in 
the face of the Canon, " call me mother, but they are 
the offspring of my sister, whose husband was lost 
last winter at sea. Poor thing, she was left with 
fourteen, and I — " 

She put her apron to her eyes and wept. 

" O, noble charity ! " said the fat priest enthusias- 
tically. " You — I see it all — you took charge of the 
little orphans. You sacrifice your savings for them, 
your time is given to them. Emotion overcomes me. 
What is their name ? " 

" Katts." 

" Cats ? " 

"John Katts, and little Kristine and Sissely Katts." 

" And the worthy pastor assists in supporting these 
poor orphans ? " 

" Yes, in spite of his poverty. And now we are on 
this point, let me ask you if you have not been struck 
with the meanness of this parsonage house. I can 
assure you, there is not a decent room in it, upstairs 
the chambers are open to the rafters, unceiled." 
^ " My worthy woman," said the Canon, " I will see 
to this myself. Rely upon it, if the Dean becomes 
Bishop, he will see that the manses of his best clergy 
are put into thorough repair." 

" I should prefer to see the repairs begun at once," 



158 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

said Maren. "When the Dean becomes Bishop he 
will have so much to think about, that he might for- 
get our parsonage house." 

" Madam," said the visitor, as he rose, " they shall 
be executed at once. When I see the charity shown 
in this humble dwelling, by pastor and housekeeper 
alike, I feel that it demands instantaneous acknow- 
ledgment." 

Then in came Peter Nielsen, and said, "I have not 
sufficient cattle-sheds. Sheep yards are also needed." 

" They shall be erected." 

Then the Canon caught up little Kirsten and little 
Sissel, and kissed their dirty faces. Maren's radiant 
countenance assured the Canon that the cause of 
Thomas Lange was won with Maren Grubbe. 

He took the parish priest by the hand, pressed it, 
and said in a low tone, " Qui pacem habet, se primum 
pacat. You understand me ? " 

" Perfectly," answered Peter Nielsen, with a smile. 

Next morning early there arrived at Roager a party 
of masons from Ribe, ready to pull down the old par- 
sonage and build one more commodious and exten- 
sive. The pastor went over the plans with the master 
mason, suggested alterations and enlargements, and 
then, with a chuckle, he muttered to himself, " That 
is an excellent saying, Qui pacem habet, se primum 
pacat." Then looking up, he saw before him an 
ascetic, hollow-eyed, pale-faced priest. 

" I am Olaf Petersen," said the new comer. " I 
thought best to come over and see you myself; I 
think the true condition of the Church ought to be 
set before you, and that you should consider the 



PETER NIELSEN. 159, 

spiritual welfare of the poor sheep in the Ribe fold, 
and give them a chief pastor who will care for the 
sheep and not for the wool." 

" I have got a flock of sheep already," said Peter 
Nielsen, coldly. " Hartwig Juel sent it me." 

" I think," continued Olaf, " that you should con- 
sider the edification of the spiritual building." 

" I am going to have a new parsonage erected," 
said Peter Nielsen, stiffly ; " Thomas Lange has seen 
to that." 

" The Bishop needed for this diocese," Olaf Peter- 
sen went on, " should combine the harmlessness of 
the dove with the wisdom of the serpent." 

" If he does that," said Nielsen, roughly, " he will 
be half knave and half fool. Let us have the wisdom,, 
that is what we want now ; and one of the first 
maxims of wisdom in Church and State is, Qui pacem 
habet, se primum pacat. You take me ? " 

Olaf sighed, and shook his head. 
/-"-<' Do you see this plan," said Peter Nielsen. " I am 
going to have a byre fashioned on that, with room for 
a dozen oxen. I have but two cows ; stables for 
two horses, I have not one ; a waggon shed, I am 
without a wheeled conveyance. I shall have new 
rooms, and have no furniture to put in them. Now, 
to stock and furnish farm and parsonage will cost 
much money. I have not a hundred shillings in the 
world. What am I to do ? The man who would be~ 
Bishop of Ribe should consider the welfare of one of 
the most influential, learned, and moral of the priests 
in the diocese, and do what he can to make him com- 
fortable. Before we choose a cow we go over her,. 



160 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

feel her, examine her parts ; before we purchase a 
horse we look at the teeth and explore the hoofs, and 
try the wind. When we select a bishop we natur- 
ally try the stuff of which he is made, if liberal, 
generous, open-handed, amiable. - You understand 
me ? 

X)laf sighed, and drops of cold perspiration stood 
on his brow. A contest was going on within. Simony 
was a mortal sin. Was there a savour of 'simony in 
offering a present to the man in whose hands the 
choice of a chief pastor lay ? He feared so. But 
then — did not the end sometimes justify the means ? 
As these questions rose in his mind and refused to be 
answered, something heavy fell at his feet. His hand 
had been plucking at his purse, and in his nervous- 
ness he had detached it from his girdle, and had let 
it slip through his fingers. He did not look down. 
He seemed not to notice his loss, but he moved away 
without another word, with bent head and troubled 
conscience. When he was gone, Peter Nielsen bowed 
himself, picked up the pouch, counted the gold coins 
in it, laughed, rubbed his hands, and said, "/He who 
blesses, blesses first himself." 

Next day a litter stayed at the parsonage gate, and 
out of it, with great difficulty, supported on the arms 
■of two servants, came the aged Jep Mundelstrup. 
He entered the guest-room and was accommodated 
with a seat. When he got his breath, he said, extend- 
ing a roll of parchment to the incumbent of Roager, 
" You will not fail to remember that it was at my 
suggestion that the choice of a bishop was left with 
you. You are deeply indebted to me. But for me 



PETER NIELSEN. 161 

you would not have been visited and canvassed by 
the Dean, the Arch-deacon, and the Ascetic, either in 
person or by their representatives. You will please 
to remember that I was nominated, but seeing so 
many others proposed, I withdrew my name. I think 
you will allow that this exhibited great humility and 
shrinking from honour. In these worldly, self-seeking 
days such an example deserves notice and reward. 
I am old, and perhaps unequal to the labours of office, 
but I think I ought to be considered ; although I did 
formally withdraw my candidature, I am not sure 
that I would refuse the mitre were it pressed on me. 
At all events it would be a compliment to offer it me 
and I might refuse it. Qui pacem habet, se primum 
pacat. You will not regret the return courtesy." 

Boom ! Boom ! Boom ! The cathedral bell was 
summoning all Ribe to the minster to be present at 
the nomination of its bishop. All Ribe answered the 
summons. 

The cathedral stands on a hill called the Mount of 
Lilies, but the mount is of so slight an elevation that 
it does not protect the cathedral from overflow, and a 
spring tide with N.W. wind has been known to flood 
both town and minster and leave fishes on the sacred 
floor. The church is built of granite, brick and sand- 
stone; originally the contrast may have been striking, 
but weather has smudged the colours together into an 
ugly brown-grey. The tower is lofty, narrow, and 
wanting a spire. It resembles a square ruler set up 
on end ; it is too tall for its base. The church is 
stately, of early architecture with transepts, and the 



1 62 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

choir at their intersection with the nave, domed over, 
and a small semi-circular apse beyond, for the altar. 
The nave was crowded, the canons occupied the stalls 
in their purple tippets edged with crimson ; purple, 
because the chapter of a cathedral ; crimson edged, 
because the founder of the See was a martyr. Fifteen, 
and the Dean, sixteen in all, were in their places. 
On the altar steps, in the apse, in the centre, sat Peter 
Nielsen in his old, worn cassock, without surplice. 
On the left side of the altar stood the richly-sculptured 
Episcopal throne, and on the seat was placed the 
jewelled mitre, over the arm the cloth of gold cope 
was cast, and against the back leaned the pastoral 
crook of silver gilt, encrusted with precious stones. 

When the last note of the bell sounded, the Dean 
rose from his stall, and stepping up to the apse, made 
oath before heaven, the whole congregation and Peter 
Nielsen, that he was prepared to abide by the decision 
of this said Peter, son of Nicolas, parish priest of 
Roager. Amen. He was followed by the Arch- 
deacon, then by each of the canons to the last. 

Then mass was said, during which the man in 
whose hands the fortunes of the See reposed, knelt 
with unimpassioned countenance and folded hands. 

At the conclusion he resumed his seat, the crucifix 
was brought forth and he kissed it. 
/~-A moment of anxious silence. The moment for 
the decision had arrived. He remained for a short 
while seated, with his eyes fixed on the ground, then 
he turned them on the anxious face of the Dean, and 
after having allowed them to rest scrutinisingly there 
for a minute, he looked at Hartwig Juel, then at Olaf 



PETER NIELSEN. 163 

Petersen, who was deadly white, and whose frame 
shook like an aspen leaf. Then he looked long at 
Jep Mundelstrup and rose suddenly to his feet. 

The fall of a pin might have been heard in the 
cathedral at that moment. 

He said — and his voice was distinctly audible by 
every one present — " I have been summoned here 
from my barren heath, into this city, out of a poor 
hamlet, by these worthy and reverend fathers, to 
choose for them a prelate who shall be at once careful 
of the temporal and the spiritual welfare of the See. 
I have scrupulously considered the merits of all those 
who have been presented to me as candidates for the 
mitre. I find that in only one man are all the re- 
quisite qualities combined in proper proportion and 
degree — not in Thomas Lange," the Dean's head fell 
on his bosom, " nor in Hartvvig Juel," the Archdeacon 
sank back in his stall ; " nor in Olaf Petersen," the 
man designated uttered a faint cry and dropped on 
his knees, " nor in Jep Mundelstrup — but in myself. 
I therefore nominate Peter, son of Nicolas, commonly 
called Nielsen, Curate of Roager, to be Bishop of 
Ribe, twenty-ninth in descent from Liafdag the 
martyr. Qui pacem habet, se primum pacat. Amen. 
He who has to bless, blesses first himself." 

Then he sat down. 

For a moment there was silence, and then a storm 
broke loose. Peter sat motionless, with his eyes 
fixed on the ground, motionless as a rock round 
which the waves toss and tear themselves to foam. 

Thus it came about that the twenty-ninth bishop 
of Ribe was Peter Nielsen. 



Zhe Wonfcer-Worfcins prince 
Ibobenlobe. 

In the year 1821, much interest was excited in Ger- 
many and, indeed, throughout Europe by the report 
that miracles of healing were being wrought by Prince 
Leopold Alexander of Hohenlohe-Waldenburg-Schil- 
lingsfttrst at Wtirzburg, Bamberg, and elsewhere. 
The wonders soon came to an end, for, after the 
ensuing year, no more was heard of his extraordinary 
powers. 

At the time, as might be expected, his claims to be 
a miracle-worker were hotly disputed, and as hotly 
asserted. Evidence was produced that some of his 
miracles were genuine ; counter evidence was brought 
forward reducing them to nothing. 

The whole story of Prince Hohenlohe's sudden 
blaze into fame, and speedy extinction, is both curi- 
ous and instructive. In the Baden village of Wittig- 
hausen, at the beginning of this century, lived a 
peasant named Martin Michel, owning a farm, and in 
fairly prosperous circumstances. His age, according 
to one authority, was fifty, according to another sixty- 
seven, when he became acquainted with Prince Ho- 
henlohe. This peasant was unquestionably a devout, 
guileless man. He had been afflicted in youth with 
a rupture, but, in answer to continuous and earnest 
prayer, he asserted that he had been completely 



PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 165 

healed. Then, for some while he prayed over other 
afflicted persons, and it was rumoured that he had 
effected several miraculous cures. He emphatically 
and earnestly repudiated every claim to superior 
sanctity. The cures, he declared, depended on the 
faith of the patient, and on the power of the Almighty. 
The most solemn promises had been made in the 
gospel to those who asked in faith, and all he did 
was to act upon these evangelical promises. 

The Government speedily interfered, and Michel 
was forbidden by the police to work any more mir- 
acles by prayer or faith, or any other means except 
the recognised pharmacopceia. 

He had received no payment for his cures in money 
or in kind, but he took occasion through them to im- 
press on his patients the duty of prayer, and the 
efficacy of faith. 

By some means he met Prince Alexander Hohen- 
lohe, and the prince was interested and excited by 
what he heard, and by the apparent sincerity of the 
man. A few days later the prince was in Wtirzburg, 
where he called on the Princess Mathilde Schwarzen- 
berg, a young girl of seventeen who was a crippkj 
and who had already spent a year and a half at 
Wtirzburg, under the hands of the orthopaedic 
physician Heine, and the surgeon Textor. She had 
been to the best medical men in Vienna and Paris, and 
the case had been given up as hopeless. Then Prince 
Schwarzenberg placed her under the treatment of 
Heine. She was so contracted, with her knees drawn 
up to her body, that she could neither stand nor walk. 
^-Prince Hohenlohe first met her at dinner, on June 



166 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

18, 1821, and the sight of her distortion filled him 
with pity. He thought over her case, and com- 
municated with Michel, who at his summons came to 
Wtirzburg. As Wtirzburg is in Bavaria, the orders of 
the Baden Government did not extend to it, and the 
peasant might freely conduct his experiments there. 

Prince Alexander called on the Princess at ten 
o'clock in the morning of June 20, taking with him 
Michel, but leaving him outside the house, in the 
court. Then Prince Hohenlohe began to speak to 
the suffering girl of the power of faith, and mentioned 
the wonders wrought by the prayers of Michel. She 
became interested, and the Prince asked her if she 
would like to put the powers of Michel to the test, 
warning her that the man could do nothing unless she 
had full and perfect belief in the mercy of God. The 
Princess expressed her eagerness to try the new 
remedy and assured her interrogator that she had the 
requisite faith. Thereupon he went to the window, 
and signed to the peasant to come up. 

What follows shall be given in the Princess's own 
words, from her account written a day or two later : — 
"The peasant knelt down and prayed in German 
aloud and distinctly, and, after his prayer, he said to 
me, ' In the Name of Jesus, stand up. You are 
whole, and can both stand and walk ! ' The peasant 
and the Prince then went into an adjoining room, and 
T rose from my couch, without assistance, in the name 
of God, well and sound, and so I have continued to 
*this moment." 

A much fuller and minuter account of the proceed- 
ings was published, probably from the pen of the 



PRINCE I10HENL0HE. 167 

governess, who was present at the time ; but as it is 
anonymous we need not concern ourselves with it. 
^vThe news of the miraculous recovery spread through 
the town ; Dr. Heine heard of it, and ran to the 
house, and stood silent and amazed at what he saw. 
The Princess descended the stone staircase towards 
the garden, but hesitated, and, instead of going into 
the garden, returned upstairs, leaning on the arm of 
Prince Hohenlohe. 

Next day was Corpus Christi. The excitement in 
the town was immense, when the poor cripple, who 
had been seen for more than a year carried into her 
carriage and carried out of it into church, walked to 
church, and thence strolled into the gardens of the 
palace. 

On the following day she visited the Julius 
Hospital, a noble institution founded by one of the 
bishops of Wiirzburg. On the 24th she called on the 
Princess Lichtenstein, the Duke of Aremberg, and 
the Prince of Baar, and moreover, attended a sermon 
preached by Prince Hohenlohe in the Haugh parish 
church. Her recovery was complete. 

Now, at first sight, nothing seems more satisfactorily 
established than this miracle. Let us, however, see 
what Dr. Heine, who had attended her for nineteen 
months, had to say on it. We cannot quote his 
account in its entirety, as it is long, but we will take 
the principal points in it : — "The Princess of 
Schwarzenberg came under my treatment at the end 
of October, 1819, afflicted with several abnormities of 
the thorax, with a twisted spine, ribs, &c. Moreover, 
she could not rise to her feet from a sitting posture* 



168 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

nor endure to be so raised ; but this was not in con- 
sequence of malformation or weakness of the system, 
for when sitting or lying down she could freely move 
her limbs. She complained of acute pain when 
placed in any other position, and when she was made 
to assume an angle of ioo° her agony became so 
intense that her extremities were in a nervous quiver, 
and partial paralysis ensued, which, however, ceased 
when she was restored to her habitual contracted 
position. 

" The Princess lost her power of locomotion when 
she was three years old, and the contraction was the 
result of abscesses on the loins. She was taken to 
France and Italy, and got so far in Paris as to be able 
to hop about a room supported on crutches. But she 
suffered a relapse on her return to Vienna in 1813, 
and thenceforth was able neither to stand nor to 
move about. She was placed in my hands, and I 
contrived an apparatus by which the angle at which 
she rested was gradually extended, and her position 
gradually changed from horizontal to vertical. At 
the same time I manipulated her almost daily, and 
had the satisfaction by the end of last April to see 
her occupy an angle of 50°, without complaining of 
suffering. By the close of May further advance was 
made, and she was able to assume a vertical position, 
with her feet resting on the ground, but with her body 
supported, and to remain in this position for four or 
five hours. Moreover, in this situation I made her go 
through all the motions of walking. The extremities 
had, in every position, retained their natural muscular 
powers and movements, and the contraction was 



PRINCE HOHESLOHE. 169 

simply a nervous affection. I made no attempt to 
force her to walk unsupported, because I would not 
do this till I was well assured such a trial would not 
be injurious to her. 

/--" On the 30th of May I revisited her, after having 
been unable, on account of a slight indisposition, to 
see my patients for several days. Her governess then 
told me that the Princess had made great progress. 
She lay at an angle of 8o°. The governess placed 
herself at the foot of the couch, held out her hands to 
the Princess, and drew her up into an upright position, 
and she told me that this had been done several 
times of late during my enforced absence. Whilst 
she was thus standing I made the Princess raise and 
depress her feet, and go through all the motions of 
walking. Immediately on my return home I set to 
work to construct a machine which might enable her 
to walk without risk of a fall and of hurting herself. 
On the 19th of June, in the evening, I told the 
Princess that the apparatus was nearly finished. 
Next day, a little after 10 A.M., I visited her. When 
I opened her door she rose up from a chair in which 
she was seated, and came towards me with short, 
somewhat uncertain steps. I bowed myself, in token 
of joy and thanks to God. 

v-4' At that moment a gentleman I had never seen 
before entered the room and exclaimed, ' Mathilde I 
you have had faith in God !' The Princess replied,. 
' I have had, and I have now, entire faith.' The 
gentleman said, ' Your faith has saved and healed 
you. God has succoured you.' Then I began to 
suspect that some strange influence was at work, and 



5 70 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

that something had been going on of which I was 
not cognizant. I asked the gentleman what was the 
meaning of this. He raised his right hand to heaven, 
and replied that he had prayed and thought of the 
Princess that morning at mass, and that Prince 
Wallerstein was privy to the whole proceeding. I 
was puzzled and amazed. Then I asked the Princess 
to walk again. She did so, and shortly after I left, 
and only then did I learn that the stranger was the 
Prince of Hohenlohe. 

"Next month, on July 21, her aunt, the Princess 
Eleanor of Schwarzenberg, came with three of the 
sisters of Princess Mathilde to fetch her away and to 
take her back to her father. Her Highness did me 
the honour of visiting me along with the Princesses 
on the second day after their arrival, to thank me for 
the pains I had taken to cure the Princess Mathilde. 
Before they left, Dr. Schafer, who had attended her 
at Ratisbon, Herr Textor, and myself were allowed 
to examine the Princess. Dr. Schafer found that the 
condition of the thorax was mightily improved since 
she had been in my hands. I, however, saw that her 
condition had retrograded since I had last seen her 
on June 20, and it was agreed that the Princess was 
to occupy her extension-couch at night, and by day 
wear the steel apparatus for support I had contrived 
for her. At the same time Dr. Schafer distinctly 
assured her and the Princess, her aunt, that under my 
management the patient had recovered the power of 
walking before the 19th of June." 

This account puts a different complexion on the 
cure, and shows that it was not in any way miracu- 



PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 171 

lous. The Prince and the peasant stepped in and 
snatched the credit of having cured the Princess from 
the doctor, to whom it rightly belonged. 
\ Before we proceed, it will be well to say a few 
words about this Prince Alexander Hohenlohe. The 
Hohenlohe family takes its name from a bare elevated 
plateau in Franconia. About the beginning of the 
1 6th century it broke into two branches ; the elder is 
Hohenlohe-Neuenstein, the younger is Hohenlohe- 
Waldenburg. 

The elder branch has its sub-ramifications — Hohen- 
lohe-Langenburg, which possesses also the county of 
Gleichen ; and the Hohenlohe-Oehringen and the 
Hohenlohe -Kirchberg sub-branches. The second 
main branch of Hohenlohe-Waldenburg has also its 
lateral branches, as those of Hohenlohe-Bartenstein 
and Hohenlohe-Schillingsfurst; the last of these being 
Catholic. 

|v Prince Leopold Alexander was born in 1794 at 
Kupferzell, near Waldenburg, and was the eighteenth 
child of Prince Karl Albrecht and his wife Judith, 
Baroness Reviczky. His father never became reign- 
ing prince, from intellectual incapacity, and Alex- 
ander lost him when he was one year old. He was 
educated for the Church by the ex-Jesuit Riel, and 
went to school first in Vienna, then at Berne; in 18 10 
he entered the Episcopal seminary at Vienna, and 
finished his theological studies at Elhvangen in 18 14. 
He was ordained priest in 18 16, and went to Rome. 

Dr. Wolff, the father of Sir Henry Drummond 
Wolff, in his "Travels and Adventures," which is 
really his autobiography, says (vol i. p. 31) : — 



172 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

.AWolff left the house of Count Stolberg on the 3rd 
April, 181 5, and went to Ellwangen, and there met 
again an old pupil from Vienna, Prince Alexander 
Hohenlohe-Schillingsfiirst, afterwards so celebrated 
for his miracles — to which so many men of the 
highest rank and intelligence have borne witness that 
Wolff dares not give a decided opinion about them. 
But Niebuhr relates that the Pope said to him him- 
self, speaking about Hohenlohe in a sneering manner,. 
' Questo far dei miracoli ! ' This fellow performing 
miracles ! 

" It may be best to offer some slight sketch of 
Hohenlohe's life. His person was beautiful. He was 
placed under the direction of Vock, the Roman 
Catholic parish priest at Berne. One Sunday he was 
invited to dinner with Vock, his tutor, at the Spanish 
ambassador's. The next day there was a great noise 
in the Spanish embassy, because the mass-robe, with 
the silver chalice and all its appurtenances, had been 
stolen. It was advertised in the paper, but nothing 
could be discovered, until Vock took Prince Hohen- 
lohe aside, and said to him, ' Prince, confess to me ;. 
have you not stolen the mass-robe ? ' He at once 
confessed it, and said that he made use of it every 
morning in practising the celebration of the mass in 
his room ; which was true." (This 1 was when Hohen- 
lohe was twenty-one years old.) " He was afterwards 
sent to Tyrnau, to the ecclesiastical seminary in 
Hungary, whence he was expelled, on account of 
levity. But, being a Prince, the Chapter of Olmlitz,. 
in Moravia, elected him titulary canon of the cathe- 
dral ; nevertheless, the Emperor Francis was too 



PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 173 

honest to confirm it. Wolff taught him Hebrew in 
Vienna. He had but little talent for languages, but 
his conversation on religion was sometimes very 
charming ; and at other times he broke out into most 
indecent discourses. He was ordained priest, and 
Sailer 1 preached a sermon on the day of his ordina- 
tion, which was published under the title of ' The 
Priest without Reproach.' On the same day money 
was collected for building a Roman Catholic Church 
at Zurich, and the money collected was given to 
Prince Hohenlohe, to be remitted to the parish priest 
of Zurich (Moritz Mayer) ; but the money never 
reached its destination. Wolff saw him once at the 
bed of the sick and dying, and his discourse, exhorta- 
tions, and treatment of these sick people were 
wonderfully beautiful. W T hen he mounted the pulpit 
to preach, one imagined one saw a saint of the 
Middle Ages. His devotion was penetrating, and 
commanded silence in a church where there were 
4,000 people collected. Wolff one day called on him, 
when Hohenlohe said to him, ' I never read any other 
book than the Bible. I never look in a sermon-book 
by anybody else, not even at the sermons of Sailer.' 
But Wolff after this heard him preach, and the whole 
sermon was copied from one of Sailer's, which Wolff 
had read only the day before. 

" With all his faults, Hohenlohe cannot be charged 
with avarice, for he give away every farthing he got, 
perhaps even that which he obtained dishonestly. 

1 Johann M. Sailer was a famous ex-Jesuit preacher, at this 
time Professor at the University of Landshut, afterwards Bishop 
of Ratisbon. He died, 1832. 



174 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

They afterwards met at Rome, where Hohenlohe 
lodged with the Jesuits, and there it was said he com- 
posed a Latin poem. Wolff, knowing his incapacity 
to do such a thing, asked him boldly, ' Who is the 
author of this poem ? ' Hohenlohe confessed at once 
that it was written by a Jesuit priest. At that time 
Madame Schlegel wrote to Wolff: ' Prince Hohenlohe 
is a man who struggles with heaven and hell, and 
heaven will gain the victory with him.' Hohenlohe 
was on the point of being made a bishop at Rome, 
but, on the strength of his previous knowledge of him, 
Wolff protested against his consecration. Several 
princes, amongst them Kaunitz, the ambassador, took 
Hohenlohe's part on this occasion ; but the matter 
was investigated, and Hohenlohe walked off from ' 
Rome without being made a bishop. In his protest 
against the man, Wolff stated that Hohenlohe's pre- 
tensions to being a canon of Olmiitz were false ; that 
he had been expelled the seminary of Tyrnau ; that 
he sometimes spoke like a saint, and at others like a 
profligate." 

. — .And now let us return to Wtirzburg, and see the 
result of the cure of Princess Schwarzenberg. The 
people who had seen the poor cripple one day carried 
into her carriage and into church, and a day or two 
after saw her walk to church and in the gardens, and 
who knew nothing of Dr. Heine's operations, con- 
cluded that this was a miracle, and gave the credit of 
it quite as much to Prince Hohenlohe as to the 
peasant Michel. 

! The police at once sent an official letter to the 

Prince, requesting to be informed authoritatively what 



PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 175 

he had done, by what right he had interfered, and how 
he had acted. He replied that he had done nothing-, 
faith and the Almighty had wrought the miracle. 
" The instantaneous cure of the Princess is a fact r 
which cannot be disputed ; , it was the result of a 
living faith. That is the truth. It happened to the 
Princess according to her faith." The peasant Michel 
now fell into the background, and was forgotten, and 
the Prince stood forward as the worker of miraculous 
cures. Immense excitement was caused by the re- 
storation of the Princess Schwarzenberg, and patients 
streamed into Wtirzburg from all the country round, 
seeking health at the hands of Prince Alexander. 
The local papers published marvellous details of his 
successful cures. The blind saw, the lame walked, 
the deaf heard. Among the deaf who recovered was 
His Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Bavaria, 
three years later King Ludwig L, grandfather of the 
late King of Bavaria. Unfortunately we have not 
exact details of this cure, but a letter of the Crown 
Prince written shortly after merely states that he 
heard better than before. Now the spring of 1821 
was very raw and wet, and about June 20 there set in 
some dry hot weather. It is therefore quite possible 
that the change of weather may have had to do with 
this cure. However, we can say nothing for certain 
about it, as no data were published, merely the 
announcement that the Crown Prince had recovered 
his hearing at the prayer of Prince Hohenlohe. Here 
are some better-authenticated cases, as given by Herr 
Scharold, an eye-witness ; he was city councillor and 
secretary. 



176 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

Ji-^he Prince had dined at midday with General 

von D . All the entrances to the house from two 

streets were blocked by hundreds of persons, and 
they said that he had already healed four individuals 
crippled with rheumatism in this house. I convinced 
myself on the spot that one of these cases was as 
said. The patient was the young wife of a fisherman, 
who was crippled in the right hand, so that she could 
not lift anything with it, or use it in any way ; and 
all at once she was enabled to raise a heavy chair, 
with the hand hitherto powerless, and hold it aloft. 
She went home weeping tears of joy and thankfulness. 
*— " The Prince was then entreated to go to another 
house, at another end of the town, and he consented. 
There he found many paralysed persons. He began 
with a poor man whose left arm was quite useless 
and stiff. After he had asked him if he had perfect 
faith, and had received a satisfactory answer, the 
Prince prayed with folded hands and closed eyes. 
Then he raised the kneeling patient ; and said, ' Move 
your arm.' Weeping and trembling in all his limbs 
the man did as he was bid ; but as he said that he 
obeyed with difficulty, the Prince prayed again, and 
said, 'Now move your arm again.' This time the 
man easily moved his arm forwards, backwards, and 
raised it. The cure was complete. Equally success- 
ful was he with the next two cases. One was a 
tailor's wife, named Lanzamer. ' What do you 
want ? ' asked the Prince, who was bathed in perspir- 
ation. Answer : ' I have had a paralytic stroke, and 
have lost the use of one side of my body, so that I 
cannot walk unsupported.' ' Kneel down ! ' But 



PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 177 

this could only be effected with difficulty, and it was 
rather a tumbling down of an inert body, painful to 
behold. I never saw a face more full of expression 
of faith in the strongly marked features. The Prince, 
deeply moved, prayed with great fervour, and then 
said, ' Stand up ! ' The good woman, much agitated, 
was unable to do so, in spite of all her efforts, without 
the assistance of her boy, who was by her, crying, and 
then her lame leg seemed to crack. When she had 
reached her feet, he said, ' Now walk the length of 
the room without pain.' She tried to do so, but suc- 
ceeded with difficulty, yet with only a little suffering. 
Again he prayed, and the healing was complete ; she 
walked lightly and painlessly up and down, and finally 
out of the room ; and the boy, crying more than be- 
fore, but now with joy, exclaimed, ' O my God ! 
mother can walk, mother can walk ! ' Whilst this 
was going on, an old woman, called Siebert, wife of a 
bookbinder, who had been brought in a sedan-chair, 
was admitted to the room. She suffered from para- 
lysis and incessant headaches that left her neither 
night nor day. The first attempt made to heal her 
failed. The second only brought on the paroxysm of 
headache worse than ever, so that the poor creature 
could hardly keep her feet or open her eyes. The 
Prince began to doubt her faith, but when she assured 
him of it, he prayed again with redoubled earnestness. 
And, all at once, she was cured. This woman left 
the room, conducted by her daughter, and all present 
were filled with astonishment." This account was 
written on June 26. On June 28 Herr Scharold 
wrote a further account of other cures he had wit- 



A 



178 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

nessed ; but those already given are sufficient. That 
this witness was convinced and sincere appears from 
his description, but how far valuable his evidence is 
we are not so well assured. 

^ A curious little pamphlet was published the same 
year at Darmstadt, entitled, " Das Mahrchen vom 
Wunder," that professed to be the result of the ob- 
servations of a medical man who attended one or two 
of these seances. Unfortunately the pamphlet is an- 
onymous, and this deprives it of most of its authority. 
Another writer who attacked the genuineness of the 
miracles was Dr. Paulus, in his " Quintessenz aus den 
Wundercurversuchen durch Michel und Hohenlohe," 
Leipzig, 1822 ; but this author also wrote anony- 
mously, and did not profess to have seen any of the 
cures. On the other hand, Scharold and a Dr. Ony- 
mus, and two or three priests published their testi- 
monies as witnessess to their genuineness, and gave 
the names and particulars of those cured. 

Those who assailed the Prince and his cures dipped 
their pens in gall. It is only just to add that they 
cast on his character none of the reflections for 
honesty which Dr. Wolff flung on him. 

The author of the Darmstadt pamphlet, mentioned 
above, says that when he was present the Prince was 
attended by two sergeants of police, as the crowd 
thronging on him was so great that he needed pro- 
tection from its pressure. He speaks sneeringly of 
him as spending his time in eating, smoking, and 
miracle-working, when not sleeping, and says he was 
plump and good-looking, " A girl of eighteen, who 
was paralysed in her limbs, was brought from a car- 



PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 179 

riage to the feet of the prophet. After he had asked 
her if she believed, and he had prayed for about 
twelve seconds, he exclaimed in a threatening rather 
than gentle voice, ' You are healed ! ' But I ob- 
served that he had to thunder this thrice into the ear 
of the frightened girl, before she made an effort to 
move, which was painful and distressing ; and, groan- 
ing and supported by others, she made her way to 
the rear. 'You will be better shortly — only believe!' 
he cried to her. I, who was looking on, observed her 
conveyed away as much a cripple as she came. 

" The next case was a peasant of fifty-eight, a cripple 
on crutches. Without his crutches he was doubled up, 
and could only shuffle with his feet on the ground. 
After the Prince had asked the usual questions and 
had prayed, he ordered the kneeling man to stand up, 
his crutches having been removed. As he was un- 
able to do so, the miracle-worker seemed irritated, 
and repeated his order in an angry tone. One of the 
policemen at the side threw in ' Up ! in the name of 
the Trinity,' and pulled him to his feet. The man 
seemed bewildered. He stood, indeed, but doubled 
as before, and the sweat streamed from his face, and 
he was not a ha'porth better than previously ; but as 
he had come with crutches, and now stood without 
them, there arose a shout of ' A miracle ! ' and all 
pressed round to congratulate the poor wretch. His 
son helped him away. ' Have faith and courage ! ' 
cried to him the Prince ; and the policeman added, 
' Only believe, and rub in a little spirits of camphor ! ' 
Many pressed alms into the man's hand, and he 
smiled ; this was regarded as a token of his perfect 



180 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

cure. I saw, however, that his knees were as stiff as 
before, and that the rogue cast longing eyes at his 
crutches, which had been taken away, but which he 
insisted on having back. No one thought of asking 
how it fared with the poor wretch later, and, as a fact, 
he died shortly after. 

" The next to come up was a deaf girl of eighteen. 
The wonder-worker was bathed in perspiration, and evi- 
dently exhausted with his continuous prayer night 
and day. After a few questions as to the duration of 
her infirmity, the Prince prayed, then signed a cross 
over the girl, and, stepping back from her, asked her 
questions, at each in succession somewhat lowering 
his tone ; but she only heard those spoken as loudly 
as before the experiment was made, and she remained 
for the most part staring stupidly at the wonder- 
worker. To cut the matter short, he declared her 
healed. I took the mother aside soon after, and in- 
quired what was the result. She assured me that the 
girl heard no better than before. 

" In her place came a stone-deaf man of twenty- five. 
The result was very similar ; but as the Prince, when 
bidding him depart healed, made a sign of withdrawal 
with his hand, the man rose and departed, and this 
was taken as evidence that he had heard the com- 
mand addressed to him." 

The author gives other cases that he witnessed, not 
one of which was other than a failure, though they 
were all declared to be cures. 

On June 29 the Prince practised his miracle-work- 
ing at the palace, in the presence of the Crown Prince 
and of Prince Esterhazy, the Austrian ambassador 



PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 181 

who was on his way to London to attend the corona- 
tion of George IV. in July. The attempts were pro- 
bably as great failures as those described in the 
Darmstadt pamphlet. The Prince was somewhat 
discouraged at the invitation of the physicians 
attached to the Julius Hospital ; he had visited that 
institution the day before, and had experimented on 
twenty cases, and was unsuccessful in every one. 
Full particulars of these were published in the " Bam- 
berger Briefe," Nos. 28-33. We will give only a very 
few : — 

" 1. Barbara Uhlen, of Oberschleichach, aged 39, 
suffering from dropsy. The Prince said to her, ' Do 
you sincerely believe that you can be helped and are 
helped ? ' The sick woman replied, ' Yes. I had re- 
solved to leave the hospital, where no good has been 
done to me, and to seek health from God and the 
Prince.' He raised his eyes to heaven and prayed ; 
then assured the patient of her cure. Her case be- 
came worse rapidly, instead of better. 

" 7. Margaretta Lohlein, of Randersacher, aged 56. 
Suffering from dropsy owing to disorganisation of the 
liver. Another failure. Shortly after the Prince left, 
she had to be operated on to save her from suffo- 
cation. 

" 10. Susanna Sollnerin, servant maid of Aub, aged 
22, had already been thirteen weeks in hospital, suffer- 
ing from roaring noises in the head and deafness. 
The Prince, observing the fervour of her faith, cried 
out, ' You shall see now how speedily she will be 
cured ! ' Prayers, blessing, as before, and — as before, 
no results. 



1 82 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

"il. George Forchheimer, butcher, suffering from 
rheumatism. One foot is immovable, and he can 
only walk with the assistance of a stick. During the 
prayer of the Prince the patient wept and sobbed, 
and was profoundly agitated. The Prince ordered him 
to stand up and go without his stick. His efforts to 
obey were unavailing ; he fell several times on the 
ground, though the Prince repeated over him his 
prayers." 

These are sufficient as instances ; not a single case 
in the hospital was more successfully treated by him. 

On July 5 Prince Hohenlohe went to Bamberg, 
where he was eagerly awaited by many sick and 
credulous persons. The Burgomaster Hornthal, 
however, interfered, and forbade the attempt at per- 
forming miracles till the authorities at Baireuth had 
been instructed of his arrival, and till a commission 
had been appointed of men of judgment, and physi- 
cians to take note of the previous condition of every 
patient who was submitted to him, and of the subse- 
quent condition. Thus hampered the Prince could 
do nothing ; he failed as signally as in the Julius 
Hospital at Wtirzburg, and the only cases of cures 
claimed to have been wrought were among a mixed 
crowd in the street to whom he gave a blessing from 
the balcony of his lodging. 

Finding that Bamberg was uncongenial, he ac- 
cepted a call to the Baths of Briickenau, and thence 
news reached the incredulous of Bamberg and 
Wtirzburg that extraordinary cures had been wrought 
at the prayers of the Prince. As, however, we have 
no details respecting these, we may pass them over. 



PRINCE HOHENLOHE. 183 

Hohenlohe. who had no notion of hiding his light 
under a bushel, drew up a detailed account of over a 
hundred cures which he claimed to have worked, had 
them attested by witnesses, and sent this precious 
document to the Pope, who, with good sense, took no 
notice of it ; at least no public notice, though 
it is probable that he administered a sharp 
private reprimand, for Hohenlohe collapsed very 
speedily. 

From Briickenau the Prince went to Vienna, but was 
not favourably received there, so he departed to Hun- 
gary, where his mother's relations lived. Though he 
was applied to by sick people who had heard of his 
fame, he did not make any more direct attempts to heal 
them. He, however, gave them cards on which a day 
and hour were fixed, and a prayer written, and 
exhorted them to pray for recovery earnestly on the 
day and at the hour indicated, and promised to pray 
for them at the same time. But this was also discon- 
tinued, having proved inefficacious, and Hohenlohe 
relapsed into a quiet unostentatious life. He was 
appointed, through family interest, Canon of Gross- 
wardein, and in 1829 advanced to be Provost of the 
Cathedral. His powers as a preacher long survived 
his powers of working miracles. He spent his time 
in good works ; and in writing little manuals of 
devotion. In ^1844. ^ e was consecrated titular Bishop 
of Sardica in partibus, that is, without a See. He 
died at Voslau, near Vienna, in 1849. That Hohen- 
lohe was a conscious hypocrite we are far from 
supposing. He was clearly a man of small mental 
powers, very conceited, and wanting in judgment. 



184 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

We must not place too much reliance on the scan- 
dalous gossip of Dr. Wolff. Probably Hohenlohe's 
vanity received a severe check in 1821, when both 
the Roman See and the world united to discredit his 
miracles ; and he had sufficient good sense to accept 
the verdict. 



Zhc £natl*£elegrapb. 

The writer well remembers, as a child, the sense of 
awe not unmixed with fear, with which he observed 
the mysterious movements of the telegraph erected 
on church towers in France along all the main roads. 
Many a beautiful tower was spoiled by these 
abominable erections. There were huge arms like 
those of a windmill, painted black, and jointed, so as 
to describe a great number of cabalistic signs in the 
air. Indeed, the movements were like the writhings 
of some monstrous spider. 

/ Glanvil who wrote in the middle of the 17th 
century says, " To those that come after us, it may be 
as ordinary to buy a pair of wings to fly into the 
remotest regions, as now a pair of boots to ride a 
journey. And to confer, at the distance of the Indies, 
by sympathetic conveyances, may be as usual to future 
times as to us is literary correspondence." He further 
remarks, " Antiquity would not have believed the 
almost incredible force of our cannons, and would as 
coldly have entertained the wonders of the telescope. 
In these we all condemn antique incredulity. And 
it is likely posterity will have as much cause to pity 
ours. But those who are acquainted with the diligent 
and ingenious endeavours of true philosophers will 
despair of nothing." 

]Tn 1633 the Marquis of Worcester suggested a 



i86 HISTORIC ODDITIES* 

scheme of telegraphing by means of signs. Another, 
but similar scheme, was mooted in 1660 by the 
Frenchman Amonton. In 1763 Mr. Edgeworth 
erected for his private use a telegraph between 
London and Newmarket. But it was in 1789 that 
the Optical Telegraph came into practical use in 
France — Claude Chappe was the inventor. When he 
was a boy, he contrived a means of communication 
by signals with his brothers at a distance of two or 
three miles. He laid down the first line between 
Lille and Paris at a cost of about two thousand 
pounds, and the first message sent along it was the 
announcement of the capture of Lille by Conde.- 
This led to the construction of many similar lines 
communicating with each other by means of stations. 
Some idea of the celerity with which messages were 
sent may be gained from the fact that it took only 
two minutes to reproduce in Paris a sign given in 
Lille at a distance of 140 miles. On this line there 
were 22 stations. The objections to this system lay 
in its being useless at night and in rainy weather. 
The French system of telegraph consisted of one 
main beam — the regulator, at the end of which were 
two shorter wings, so that it formed a letter Z. The 
regulator and its flags could be turned about in 
various ways, making in all 196 signs. Sometimes 
the regulator stood horizontally, sometimes perpen- 
dicularly. 

Lord Murray introduced one of a different con- 
struction in England in 1795 consisting of two rows 
of three octangular flags revolving on their axis. 
This gave 64 different signs, but was defective in the 



THE SNAIL-TELEGRAPH. 187 

same point as that of Chappe. Poor Chappe was so 
troubled in mind because his claim to be the inventor 
of his telegraph was disputed, that he drowned him- 
self in a well, 1805. 

Besides the fact that the optical telegraph was 
paralysed by darkness and storm, it was very difficult 
to manage in mountainous and well-wooded country, 
and required there a great number of stations. 
^ After that Sommering had discovered at Munich 
in 1808 the means of signalling through the galvanic 
■current obtained by decomposition of water, and 
Schilling at Canstadt and Ampere in Paris (1820) had 
made further advances in the science of electrology, 
-and Oersted had established the deflexion of the 
magnetic needle, it was felt that the day of the cum- 
brous and disfiguring optical telegraph was over. A 
new power had been discovered, though the extent 
.and the applicability of this power were not known. 
Gauss and Weber in 1833 made the first attempt to 
.•set up an electric telegraph ; in 1837 Wheatstone and 
Morse utilised the needle and made the telegraph 
print its messages. In 1833 the telegraph of Gauss 
and Weber supplanted the optical contrivance on the 
line between Treves and Berlin. The first line in 
America was laid from Washington to Baltimore in 
V1844. The first attempt at submarine telegraphy 
was made at Portsmouth in 1846, and in 1850 a cable 
was laid between England and France. 
\It was precisely in this year when men's minds were 
excited over the wonderful powers of the galvanic 
current, and a wide prospect was opened of its future 
advantage to men, when, indeed, the general public 



i88 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

understood very little about the principle and were in 
a condition of mind to accept almost any scientific 
marvel, that there appeared in Paris an adventurer,, 
who undertook to open communications between all 
parts of the world without the expense and difficulty 
of laying cables of communication. The line laid 
across the channel in 1850 was not very successful ;. 
it broke several times, and had to be taken up again, 
and relaid in 185 1. If it did not answer in conveying 
messages across so narrow a strip of water, was it 
likely to be utilized for Transatlantic telegraphy > 
The Presse, a respectable Paris paper, conducted by 
a journalist of note, M. de Girardin, answered 
emphatically, No. The means of communication was 
not to be sought in a chain. The gutta percha 
casing would decompose under the sea, and when the 
brine touched the wires, the cable would be useless. 
The Chappe telegraph was superseded by the electric 
telegraph which answered well on dry land, but fatal 
objections stood in the way of its answering for 
communication between places divided by belts of 
sea or oceans. Moreover, it was an intricate system. 
Now the tendency of science in modern times was 
towards simplification ; and it was always found that 
the key to unlock difficulties which had puzzled the 
inventors of the past, lay at their hands. The 
electric telegraph was certainly more elaborate, com- 
plicated and expensive than the optical telegraph. 
Was it such a decided advance on it ? Yes — in one- 
way. It could be worked at all hours of night and 
day. But had the last word in telegraphy been, 
spoken, when it was invented ? Most assuredly not. 



THE SNAIL-TELEGRAPH. 189 

Along with electricity and terrestrial magnetism, 
another power, vaguely perceived, the full utility of 
which was also unknown, had been recognised — 
animal magnetism. Why should not this force be 
used as a means for the conveyance of messages ? 
t M. Jules Allix after a long preamble in La Presse, 
in an article signed by himself, announced that a 
French inventor, M. Jacques Toussaint Benoit (de 
l'Herault), and a fellow worker of Gallic origin, living 
in America, M. Biat-Chretien, had hit on " a new 
system of universal intercommunication of thought, 
which operates instantaneously." 
^After a long introduction in true French rhodomon- 
tade, tracing the progress of humanity from the 
publication of the Gospel to the 19th century, M. 
Allix continued, " The discovery of MM. Benoit and 
Biat depends on galvanism, terrestrial and animal 
magnetism, also on natural sympathy, that is to say, 
the base of communication is a sort of special sym- 
pathetic fluid which is composed of the union or 
blending of the galvanic, magnetic and sympathetic 
currents, by a process to be described shortly. And 
as the various fluids vary according to the organic or 
inorganic bodies whence they are derived, it is neces- 
sary further to state that the forces or fluids here 
married are : (a) The terrestrial-galvanic current, {b) 
the animal-sympathetic current, in this case derived 
from snails, (c) the adamic or human current, or 
animal-magnetic current in man. Consequently, to 
describe concisely the basis of the new system of 
intercommunication, we shall have to call the force, 
' The galvano-terrestrial-magnetic-animal and adamic 



i go HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

force ! ' " Is not this something like a piece of Jules 
Verne's delicious scientific hocus-pocus? Will the 
reader believe that it was written in good faith? It 
was, there can be no question, written in perfect 
good faith. The character of La Presse, of the jour- 
nalist, M. Jules Allix, would not allow of a hoax 
wilfully perpetrated on the public. We are quoting 
from the number for October 27th, 1850, of the paper. 
— "According to the experiments made by MM. 
Benoit and Biat, it seems that snails which have 
once been put in contact, are always in sympathetic 
communication. When separated, there disengages 
itself from them a species of fluid of which the earth 
is the conductor, which develops and unrolls, so to 
speak, like the almost invisible thread of the spider, 
or that of the silk worm, which can be uncoiled and 
prolonged almost indefinitely in space without its 
breaking, but with this vital difference that the thread 
of the escargotic fluid is invisible as completely and 
the pulsation along it is as rapid as the electric fluid. 

__ "But, it may be objected with some plausibility, 

granted the existence in the snails of this sympathetic 
fluid, will it radiate from them in all directions, after 
the analogy of electric, galvanic and magnetic fluids, 
unless there be some conductor established between 
them ? At first sight, this objection has some weight, 
but for all that it is more specious than serious." The 
solution of this difficulty is exquisitely absurd. We 
must summarise. 

At first the discoverers of the galvanic current 
thought it necessary to establish a return wire, to 
complete the circle, till it was found to be sufficient 



THE SNAIL-TELEGRAPH. 19 r 

to carry the two ends of the wire in communication 
with the earth, when the earth itself completed the 
circle. There is no visible line between the ends 
underground, yet the current completes the circle 
through it. Moreover, it is impossible to think of 
two points without establishing, in idea, a line be- 
tween them, indeed, according to Euclid's definition, a 
straight line is that which lies evenly between its. 
extreme points, and a line is length without breadth 
or substance. So, if we conceive of two snails, we 
establish a line between them, an unsubstantial line,, 
still a line along which the sympathetic current can 
travel. "Now MM. Benoit and Biat, by means of 
balloons in the atmosphere/' had established beyond: 
doubt that a visible tangible line of communication, 
was only necessary when raised above the earth. 

" Consequently, there remains nothing more to be 
considered than the means, the apparatus, whereby 
the transmission of thought is effected. 
~v " This apparatus consists of a square box, in which 
is a Voltaic pile, of which the metallic plates, instead 
of being superposed, as in the pile of Volta, are dis- 
posed in order, attached in holes formed in a wheel 
or circular disc, that revolves about a steel axis. To 
these metallic plates used by Volta, MM. Benoit and 
Biat have substituted others in the shape of cups or- 
circular basins, composed of zinc lined with cloth 
steeped in a solution of sulphate of copper maintained, 
in place by a blade of copper riveted to the cup. At 
the bottom of each of these bowls, is fixed, by aid of 
a composition that shall be given presently, a living 
snail, whose sympathetic influence may unite and be 



192 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

woven with the galvanic current, when the wheel of 
the pile is set in motion and with it the snails that 
are adhering to it. 

^ Each galvanic basin rests on a delicate spring, so 
that it may respond to every escargotic commotion. 
Now ; it is obvious that such an apparatus requires a 
•corresponding apparatus, disposed as has been de- 
scribed, and containing in it snails in sympathy with 
those in the other apparatus, so that the escargotic 
vibration may pass from one precise point in one of 
the piles to a precise point in the other and comple- 
mentary pile. When these dispositions have been 
grasped the rest follows as a matter of course. MM. 
Benoit and Biat have fixed letters to the wheels, 
corresponding the one with the other, and at each 
sympathetic touch on one, the other is touched ; 
consequently it is easy by this means, naturally and 
instantaneously, to communicate ideas at vast dis- 
tances, by the indication of the letters touched by the 
snails. The apparatus described is in shape like a 
mariner's compass, and to distinguish it from that, it is 
termed the pasilalinic — sympathetic compass, as descrip- 
tive at once of its effects and the means of operation." 

^But, who were these inventors, Benoit and Biat- 
Chretien ? We will begin with the latter. As Pontop- 
pidon in .his History of Norway heads a chapter, 
" Of Snakes," and says, " Of these there are none," so 
we may say of M. Biat-Chre'tien ; there was no such 
man ; at least he never rose to the surface and was 
seen. Apparently his existence was as much a hallu- 
cination or creation of the fancy of M. Benoft, as was 
Mrs. Harris a creature of the imagination of Mrs. 



THE SNAIL-TELEGRAPH. 193 

Betsy Gamp. Certainly no Biat-Chretien was known 
in America as a discoverer. 

Jacques Toussaint Benoit (de l'Herault) was a man 
who had been devoted since his youth to the secret 
sciences. His studies in magic and astrology, in 
mesmerism, and electricity, had turned his head. 
Together with real eagerness to pursue his studies, 
and real belief in them, was added a certain spice of 
rascality. 

s^ One day Benoit, who had by some means made 
the acquaintance of M. Triat, founder and manager 
of a gymnasium in Paris for athletic exercises, came 
to Triat, and told him that he had made a discovery 
which would supersede electric telegraphy. The 
director was a man of common sense, but not of much 
education, certainly of no scientific acquirements. 
He was, therefore, quite unable to distinguish be- 
tween true and false science. Benoit spoke with 
conviction, and carried away his hearer with his 
enthusiasm. 

" What is needed for the construction of the 
machine ? " asked M. Triat. 

" Only two or three bits of wood," replied Benoit. 

M. Triat took him into his carpenter's shop. "There, 
my friend," he said, "here you have wood, and a man 
to help you." 

-^ M. Triat did more. The future inventor of the 
instantaneous communication of thought was house- 
less and hungry. The manager rented a lodging for 
him, and advanced him money for his entertainment. 
Benoit set to work. He used a great many bits of 
wood, and occupied the carpenter a good part of his 



i 9 4 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

time. Other things became necessary as well as 
wood, things that cost money, and the money was 
found by M. Triat. So passed a twelvemonth. At 
the end of that time, which had been spent at the 
cost of his protector, Benolt had arrived at no result. 
It was apparent that, in applying to M. Triat, he had 
sought, not so much to construct a machine already 
invented, as to devote himself to the pursuit of his 
favourite studies. The director became impatient. 
He declined to furnish further funds. ' Then Benolt 
declared that the machine was complete. 

xThis machine, for the construction of which he had 
asked for two or three pieces of wood, was an enor- 
mous scaffold formed of beams ten feet long, support- 
ing the Voltaic pile described by M. Allix, ensconced 
in the bowls of which were the wretched snails stuck 
to the bottom of the basins by some sort of glue, at 
intervals. This was the Pasilalinic-sympathetic com- 
pass. It occupied one end of the apartment. At 
the other end was a second, exactly similar. Each 
contained twenty-four alphabetic-sympathetic snails. 
These poor beasts, glued to the bottom of the zinc 
cups with little dribbles of sulphate of copper trick- 
ling down the sides of the bowls from the saturated 
cloth placed on them, were uncomfortable, and naturally 
tried to get away. They thrust themselves from their 
shells and poked forth their horns groping for some 
congenial spot on which to crawl, and came in con- 
tact with the wood on which was painted the letters. 
But if they came across a drop of solution of sulphate 
of copper, they went precipitately back into their shells. 

""Properly, the two machines should have been 



THE SNAIL-TELEGRAPH. 195 

established in different rooms, but no second room 
was available on the flat where Benoit was lodged, so 
he was forced to erect both vis-a-vis. That, however, 
was a matter wholly immaterial, as he explained to 
those who visited the laboratory. Space was not 
considered by snails. Place one in Paris, the other at 
the antipodes, the transmission of thought along their 
.sympathetic current was as complete, instantaneous 
and effective as in his room' on the troisihne. In 
proof of this, Benoit undertook to correspond with his 
friend and fellow-worker Biat-Chretien in America, 
who had constructed a similar apparatus. He 
assured all who came to inspect his invention that he 
conversed daily by means of the snails with his 
absent friend. When the machine was complete, the 
inventor was in no hurry to show it in working order ; 
however M. Triat urged performance on him. He 
•said, and there was reason in what he said, that an 
exhibition of the pasilalinic telegraph before it was 
perfected, would be putting others on the track, who 
might, having more means at their command, forestall 
him, and so rob him of the fruit of his labours. At 
last he invited M. Triat and M. Allix, as representa- 
tive of an influential journal, to witness the apparatus 
in working order, on October 2nd. He assured them 
that since September 30, he had been in constant 
■correspondence with Biat-Chretien, who, without 
crossing the sea, would assist at the experiments con- 
ducted at Paris on Wednesday, October 2nd, in the 
lodging of M. Benoit. 

/-■■On the appointed day, M. Triat and M. Allix were 
at the appointed place. The former at once objected 



196 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

to the position of the two compasses, but was con- 
strained to be satisfied with the reason given by the 
operator. If they could not be in different rooms, at 
least a division should be made in the apartment 
by means of a curtain, so that the operator at one 
compass could not see him at the other. But there 
was insuperable difficulty in doing this, so M. Triat 
had to waive this objection also. M. Jules Allix was 
asked to attend one of the compasses, whilst the in- 
ventor stood on the scaffold managing the other. M. 
Allix was to send the message, by touching the snails 
which represented the letters forming the words to be 
transmitted, whereupon the corresponding snail on M. 
Benolt's apparatus was supposed to thrust forth his 
horns. But, under one pretext or another, the 
inventor ran from one apparatus to the other, the 
whole time, so that it was not very difficult, with a 
little management, to reproduce on his animated 
compass the letters transmitted by M. Jules Allix. 
_ The transmission, moreover, was not as exact as it 
ought to have been. M. Jules Allix had touched the 
snails in such order as to form the word gymnase ; 
Benoit on his compass read the word gymoate. Then 
M. Triat, taking the place of the inventor, sent the 
words lumiere divine to M. Jules Allix, who read on 
his compass lumhere divine. Evidently the snails 
were bad in their orthography. The whole thing, 
moreover, was a farce, and the correspondence, such as 
it was, was due to the incessant voyages of the in- 
ventor from one compass to the other, under the pre- 
text of supervising the mechanism of the two appar- 
atusest 



THE SNAIL-TELEGRAPH. 197 

Benoit was then desired to place himself in com- 
munication with his American friend, planted before 
his compass on the other side of the Atlantic. He 
transmitted to him the signal to be on the alert. 
Then he touched with a live snail he held in his hand 
the four snails that corresponded to the letters of the 
name BlAT ; then they awaited the reply from 
- America. After a few moments, the poor glued snails 
began to poke out their horns in a desultory, irregular 
manner, and by putting the letters together, with 
some accommodation CESTBIEN was made out, which 
when divided, and the apostrophe added, made C'est 
bien. 

M. Triat was much disconcerted. He considered 
himself as hoaxed. Not so M. Allix. He was so 
completely satisfied, that on the 27th October, 
appeared the article from his pen which we have 
quoted. M. Triat then went to the inventor and told 
him point blank, that he withdrew his protection from 
him. Benoit entreated him not to throw up the 
matter, before the telegraph was perfected. 

"Look here!" said M. Triat; "nothing is easier 
' than for you to make me change my intention. Let 
one of your compasses beset up in my gymnasium, 
and the other in the side apartment. If that seems 
too much, then let a simple screen be drawn between 
the two, and do you refrain from passing between 
them whilst the experiment is being carried on. If 
under these conditions you succeed in transmitting a 
single word from one apparatus to the other, I will 
give you a thousand francs a day whilst your experi- 
ments are successful." 



igS HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

// \ M. Triat then visited M. de Girardin who was in- 
terested in the matter, half believed in it, and had 
accordingly opened the columns of La Presse to the 
article of M. Allix. M. de Girardin wished to be 
present at the crucial experiment, and M. Triat gladly 
invited him to attend. He offered another thousand 
francs so long as the compasses worked. " My plan is 
this," said M. de Girardin : " If Benoit's invention is a 
success, we will hire the Jardin dliiver and make 
Benoit perform his experiments in public. That will 
bring us in a great deal more than two thousand 
francs a day." 
r^ Benolt accepted all the conditions with apparent 
alacrity ; but, before the day arrived for the experi- 
ment, after the removal of the two great scaffolds to 
the gymnasiums — he had disappeared. He was, how- 
ever, seen afterwards several times in Paris, very thin, 
with eager restless eyes, apparently partly deranged. 
He died in 1852 ! 

i/^-Alas for Benoit. He died a few years too soon. A 
little later, and he might have become a personage of 
importance in the great invasion of the table-turning 
craze which shortly after inundated Europe, and turned 
many heads as well as tables. 



XTbe Countess <Boedit3* 

One of the most strange and terrible tragedies of 
this century was the murder of the Countess Goerlitz ; 
and it excited immense interest in Germany, both 
because of the high position of the unfortunate lady, 
the mystery attaching to her death, and because the 
charge of having murdered her rested on her husband, 
the Count Goerlitz, Chamberlain to the Grand-Duke 
of Hesse, Privy Councillor, a man of fortune as well 
as rank, and of unimpeachable character. There was 
another reason why the case excited general interest : 
the solution remained a mystery for three whole 
years, from 1847 to 1850. 

The Count Goerlitz was a man of forty-six, a great 
favourite at the Court, and of fine appearance. He 
had married, in 1820, the daughter of the Privy 
Councillor, Plitt. They had no children. The Coun- 
tess was aged forty-six when the terrible event oc- 
curred which we are about to relate. 

The Count and Countess lived in their mansion in 
the Neckarstrasse in Darmstadt — a large, palatial 
house, handsomely furnished. Although living under 
the same roof, husband and wife lived apart. She 
occupied the first floor, and he the parterre, or ground 
floor. They dined together. The cause of the un- 
friendly terms on which they lived was the fact that 
the Countess was wealthy, her family was of citizen 



200 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

origin, and had amassed a large fortune in trade. 
Her father had been ennobled by the Grand-Duke, 
and she had been his heiress. The Count, himself, 
had not much of his own, and his wife cast this fact 
in his teeth. She loved to talk of the " beggar no- 
bility," who were obliged to look out for rich burghers' 
daughters to gild their coronets. The Count may 
have been hot of temper, and have aggravated matters 
by sharpness of repartee ; but, according to all ac- 
counts, it was her miserliness and bitter tongue which 
caused the estrangement. 

There were but four servants in the house — the 
Count's valet, the coachman, a manservant of the 
Countess, and the cook. 

Every Sunday the Count Goerlitz dined at the 
palace. On Sunday, June 13, 1847, he had dined at 
the Grand-Duke's table as usual. As we know from 
the letters of the Princess Alice, life was simple at 
that Court. Hours were, as usual in South Germany, 
early. The carriage took the Count to dinner at the 
palace at 3 P.M., and he returned home in it to the 
Neckar Street at half-past six. When he came in he 
asked the servant of the Countess, a man named John 
Stauff, whether his wife was at home, as he wanted 
to see her. As a matter of fact, he had brought away 
from the dinner-table at the palace some maccaroons 
and bonbons for her, as she had a sweet tooth, and 
he thought the attention might please her. 

As John Stauff told him the Countess was in, he 
ascended the stone staircase. A glass door led into 
the anteroom. He put his hand to it and found it 
fastened. Thinking that his wife was asleep, or did 



THE COUNTESS G0ERL1TZ. 201 

not want to be disturbed, he went downstairs to his 
own room, which was under her sitting-room. There 
he listened for her tread, intending, on hearing it, to 
reascend and present her with the bonbons. As he 
heard nothing, he went out for a walk. The time 
was half-past seven. A little before nine o'clock he 
returned from his stroll, drew on his dressing-gown 
and slippers, and asked for his supper, a light meal 
he was wont to take by himself in his own room, 
though not always, for the Countess frequently joined 
him. Her mood was capricious. As he had the 
bonbons in his pocket, and had not yet been able to 
present them, he sent her man Stauff to tell her lady- 
ship that supper was served, and that it would give 
him great satisfaction if she would honour him with 
her presence. Stauff came back in a few moments 
to say that the Countess was not at home. " Non- 
sense ! " said the husband, " of course she is at home. 
She may, however, be asleep. I will go myself and 
find her." Thereupon he ascended the stairs, and 
found, as before, the glass door to the anteroom 
fastened. He looked in, but saw nothing. He 
knocked, and received no answer. Then he went to 
the bedroom door, knocked, without result ; listened, 
and heard no sound. The Count had a key to the 
dressing-room ; he opened, and went in, and through 
that he passed into the bed-chamber. That was 
empty. The bed-clothes were turned down for the 
night, but were otherwise undisturbed. He had no 
key to the anteroom and drawing-room. 

Then the Count went upstairs to the laundry, 
which was on the highest storey, and where were also 



202 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

some rooms. The Countess was particular about her 
lace and linen, and often attended to them herself, 
getting up some of the collars and frills with her own 
hands. She was not in the laundry. Evidently she 
was, as Stauff had said, not at home. The Count 
questioned the manservant. Had his mistress in- 
timated her intention of supping abroad ? No, she 
had not. Nevertheless, it was possible she might 
have gone to intimate friends. Accordingly, he sent 
to the palace of Prince Wittgenstein, and to the house 
of Councillor von Storch, to inquire if she were at 
either. She had been seen at neither. 

The Count was puzzled, without, however, being 
seriously alarmed. He bade Stauff call the valet,. 
Schiller, and the coachman, Schambs, who slept out 
of the house, and then go for a locksmith. Stauff de- 
parted. Presently the valet and coachman arrived,, 
and, after, Stauff, without the locksmith, who, he said,, 
was ill, and his man was at the tavern. The Count 
was angry and scolded. Then the coachman went 
forth, and soon came back with the locksmith's ap- 
prentice, who was set at once to open the locked 
doors in the top storey. The Countess was not in 
them. At the same time the young man noticed a 
smell of burning, but whence it came they could not 
decide. Thinking that this smell came from the 
kitchen on the first storey — that is, the floor above 
where the Count lived — they attacked the door of the 
kitchen, which was also locked. She was not there. 
Then the Count led the way to the private sitting-room 
of the Countess. As yet only the young locksmith had 
noticed the fire, the others were uncertain whether 



THE COUNTESS G0ERL1TZ. 203 

they smelt anything unusual or not. The key of the 
apprentice would not fit the lock of the Countess' 
ante-room, so he ran home to get another. Then the 
Count went back to his own apartment, and on enter- 
ing it, himself perceived the smell of burning. Ac- 
cordingly, he went upstairs again, to find that the 
coachman had opened an iron stove door in the pas- 
sage, and that a thick pungent smoke was pouring 
out of it. We must enter here into an explanation. 
In many cases the porcelain stove of a German house 
has no opening into the room. It is lighted outside 
through a door into the passage. Several stoves 
communicate with one chimney. The Count and his 
servants ran out into the courtyard to look at the 
chimney stack to see if smoke were issuing from it. 
None was. Then they returned to the house. The 
apprentice had not yet returned. Looking through 
the glass door, they saw that there was smoke in the 
room. It had been unperceived before, for it was 
evening and dusk. At once the Count's valet, 
Schiller, smashed the plate glass, and through the 
broken glass smoke rolled towards them. 

The hour was half-past ten. The search had occu- 
pied an hour and a half. It had not been prosecuted 
with great activity ; but then, no suspicion of any- 
thing to cause alarm had been entertained. If the 
Countess were at home, she must be in the sitting- 
room. From this room the smoke must come which 
pervaded the ante-chamber. The fire must be within, 
and if the Countess were there, she must run the 
danger of suffocation. Consequently, as the keys 
were not at hand, the doors ought to be broken open 



204 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

at once. This was not done. Count Goerlitz sent 
the servants away. Stauff he bade run for a chimney- 
sweep, and Schiller for his medical man, Dr. Steg- 
mayer. The coachman had lost his head and ran 
out into the street, yelling, " Fire ! fire ! " The wife 
of Schiller, who had come in, ran out to summon 
assistance. 

The Count was left alone outside the glass door ; 
and there he remained passive till the arrival of the 
locksmith's man with the keys. More time was 
wasted. None of the keys would open the door, 
and still the smoke rolled out. Then the apprentice 
beat the door open with a stroke of his hammer. He 
did it of his own accord, without orders from the 
Count. That was remembered afterwards. At once 
a dense, black, sickly-smelling smoke poured forth, 
and prevented the entrance of those who stood with- 
out. 

In the meantime, the coachman and others had 
put ladders against the wall, one to the window of 
the ante-room, the other to that of the parlour. Seitz, 
the apprentice, ran up the ladder, and peered in. The 
room was quite dark. He broke two panes in the 
window, and at once a blue flame danced up, caught 
the curtains, flushed yellow, and shot out a fiery 
tongue through the broken window. Seitz, who 
seems to have been the only man with presence of 
mind, boldly put his arm through and unfastened the 
valves, and, catching the burning curtains, tore them 
down and flung them into the street. Then he cast 
down two chairs which were flaming from the win- 
dow. He did not venture in because of the smoke. 



THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 205 

In the meanwhile the coachman had broken the 
window panes of the ante-room. This produced a 
draught through the room, as the glass door had been 
broken in by Seitz. The smoke cleared sufficiently 
to allow of admission to the parlour door. This door 
was also found to be locked, and not only locked, but 
with the key withdrawn from it, as had been from the 
ante-chamber door. This door was also burst open, 
and then it was seen that the writing-desk of the 
Countess was on fire. That was all that could be 
distinguished at the first glance. The room was full 
of smoke, and the heat was so great that no one could 
enter. 

Water was brought in jugs and pails, and thrown 
upon the floor. The current of air gradually dissi- 
pated the smoke, and something white was observed 
on the floor near the burning desk. "Good heavens!" 
exclaimed the Count, " there she lies ! " 

The Countess lay on the floor beside her writing- 
desk ; the white object was her stockings. 

Among those who entered was a smith called Wet- 
zell ; he dashed forward, flung a pail of water over the 
burning table, caught hold of the feet of the dead body,, 
and dragged it into the ante-room. Then he sought 
to raise it, but it slipped through his hands, A second 
came to his assistance, with the same result. The 
corpse was like melted butter. When he seized it by 
the arm, the flesh came away from the bone. 

The body was laid on a mat, and so transported 
into a cabinet. The upper portion was burnt to coal ; 
one hand was charred ; on the left foot was a shoe, 
the other was found, later, in another room. More 



206 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

water was brought, and the fire in the parlour was 
completely quenched. Then only was it possible to 
examine the place. The fire had, apparently, origin- 
ated at the writing-desk or secretaire of the Countess ; 
the body had lain before the table, and near it was a 
chair, thrown over. From the drawing-room a door, 
which was found open, led into the boudoir. This 
boudoir had a window that looked into a side street. 
In the ante-room were no traces of fire. In the 
drawing-room only the secretaire and the floor be- 
neath it had been burnt. On a chiffonier against the 
wall were candlesticks, the stearine candles in them 
had been melted by the heat of the room and run 
over the chiffonier. 

In this room was also a sofa, opposite the door 
leading from the ante-chamber, some way from the desk 
and the seat of the fire. In the middle of the sofa was 
a hole fourteen inches long by six inches broad, burnt 
through the cretonne cover, the canvas below, and 
into the horse hair beneath. A looking-glass hung 
against the wall above ; this glass was broken and 
covered with a deposit as of smoke. It was apparent, 
therefore, that a flame had leaped up on the sofa 
sufficiently high and hot to snap the mirror and 
obscure it. 

Left of the entrance-door was a bell-rope, torn 
down and cast on the ground. 

Beyond the parlour was the boudoir. It had a 
little corner divan. Its cover was burnt through in 
two places. The cushion at the back was also marked 
with holes burnt through. Above this seat against 
the wall hung an oil painting. It was blistered with 



THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 207 

heat. Near it was an etagere, on which were candles; 
these also were found melted completely away. In 
this boudoir was found the slipper from the right foot 
of the Countess. 

If the reader will consider what we have described, 
he will see that something very mysterious must have 
occurred. There were traces of burning in three dis- 
tinct places — on the sofa, and at the secretaire in the 
parlour, and on the corner seat in the boudoir. It 
was clear also that the Countess had been in both 
rooms, for her one slipper was in the boudoir, the 
other on her foot in the drawing-room. Apparently, 
also, she had rung for assistance, and torn down the 
bell-rope. 

Another very significant and mysterious feature of 
the case was the fact that the two doors were found 
locked, and that the key was not found with the body, 
nor anywhere in the rooms. Consequently, . the 
Countess had not locked herself in. 

Again : — the appearance of the corpse was peculiar. 
The head and face were burnt to cinder, especially 
the face, less so the back of the head. All the upper 
part of the body had been subjected to fire, as far as 
the lower ribs, and there the traces of burning ceased 
absolutely. Also, the floor was burnt in proximity 
to the corpse, but not where it lay. The body had 
protected the floor where it lay from fire. 

The police were at once informed of what had taken 
place, and the magistrates examined the scene and 
the witnesses. This was done in a reprehensibly in- 
efficient manner. The first opinion entertained 
was that the Countess had been writing at her 



208 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

desk, and had set fire to herself, had run from room 
to room, tried to obtain assistance by ringing the 
bell, had failed, fallen, and died. Three medical 
men were called in to examine the body. One de- 
cided that this was a case of spontaneous combustion. 
The second that it was not a case of spontaneous 
combustion. The third simply stated that she had 
been burnt, but how the fire originated he was unable 
to say. No minute examination of the corpse was 
made. It was not even stripped of the half-burnt 
clothes upon it. It was not dissected. The family 
physician signed a certificate of " accidental death," 
and two days after the body was buried. 

Only three or, at the outside, four hypotheses could 
account for the death of the Countess. 

i. She had caught fire accidentally, whilst writing 
at her desk. 

2. She had died of spontaneous combustion. 

3. She had been murdered. 

There is, indeed, a fourth hypothesis — that she had 
committed suicide ; but this was too improbable to 
be entertained. The manner of death was not one to 
be reconciled with the idea of suicide. 

The first idea was that in the minds of the magis- 
trates. They were prepossessed with it. They saw 
nothing that could militate against it. Moreover, the 
Count was Chamberlain at Court, a favourite of the 
sovereign and much liked by the princes, also a man 
generally respected. Unquestionably this had some- 
thing to do with the hasty and superficial manner in 
which the examination was gone through. The 
magistrates desired to have the tragedy hushed up. 



THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 209 

A little consideration shows that the theory of acci- 
dent was untenable. The candles were on the chiffonier, 
and no traces of candlesticks were found on the spot 
where the fire had burned. Moreover, the appearance of 
the secretaire was against this theory. The writing- 
desk and table consisted of a falling flap, on which 
the Countess wrote, and which she could close and 
lock. Above this table were several small drawers 
which contained her letters, receipted bills, and her 
jewelry. Below it were larger drawers. The upper 
drawers were not completely burnt ; on the other 
hand, the lower drawers were completely consumed, 
and their bottoms and contents had fallen in cinders 
on the floor beneath, which was also burnt through to 
the depth of an inch and a half to two inches. It 
was apparent, therefore, that the secretaire had been 
set on fire from below. Moreover, there was more 
charcoal found under it than could be accounted for, 
by supposing it had fallen from above. Now it will be 
remembered that only the upper portion of the body 
was consumed. The Countess had not set fire to 
herself whilst writing, and so set fire to the papers 
on the desk. That was impossible. 

The supposition that she had died of spontaneous 
combustion was also entertained by a good many. But 
no well-authenticated case of spontaneous combustion 
is known. Professor Liebig, when afterwards examined 
on this case, stated that spontaneous combustion of 
the human body was absolutely impossible, and such 
an idea must be relegated to the region of myths. 

There remained, therefore, no other conclusion at 
which it was possible for a rational person to arrive 



210 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

who weighed the circumstances than that the Countess 
had been murdered. 

The Magisterial Court of the city of Darmstadt 
had attempted to hush-up the case. The German 
press took it up. It excited great interest and in- 
dignation throughout the country. It was intimated 
pretty pointedly that the case had been scandalously 
slurred over, because of the rank of the Count and 
the intimate relation in which he stood to the royal 
family. The papers did not shrink from more than 
insinuating that this was a case of murder, and that 
the murderer was the husband of the unfortunate 
woman. Some suspicion that this was so seems to 
have crossed the minds of the servants of the house. 
They recollected his dilatoriness in entering the 
rooms of the Countess ; the time that was protracted 
in idle sending for keys, and trying key after key, 
when a kick of the foot or a blow of the hammer 
would have sufficed to give admission to the room 
where she lay. It was well known that the couple did 
not live on the best terms. To maintain appearances 
before the world, they dined and occasionally supped 
together. They rarely met alone, and when they did 
fell into dispute, and high words passed which the 
servants heard. 

The Countess was mean and miserly, she grudged 
allowing her husband any of her money. She had> 
however, made her will the year before, leaving all 
her large fortune to her husband for life. Conse- 
quently her death released him from domestic and 
pecuniary annoyances. On the morning after the 
death he sent for the agent of the insurance company 



THE COUNTESS G0ERLI7Z. 211 

with whom the furniture and other effects were insured 
and made his claim. He claimed, in addition to 
the value of the furniture destroyed, the worth of a 
necklace of diamonds and pearls which had been so 
injured by the fire that it had lost the greater part of 
its value. The pearls were quite spoiled, and the 
diamonds reduced in worth by a half. The agent 
refused this claim, as he contended that the jewelry 
was not included in the insurance, and the Count 
abstained from pressing it. 

To the Count the situation became at length in- 
tolerable. He perceived a decline of cordiality in his 
reception at Court, his friends grew cold, and 
acquaintances cut him. He must clear himself of the 
charge which now weighed on him. The death of 
the Countess had occurred on June 13, 1847. On 
October 6, that is four months later, Count Goerlitz 
appeared before the Grand-Ducal Criminal Court of 
Darmstadt, and produced a bundle of German news- 
papers charging him with having murdered his wife> 
and set fire to the room to conceal the evidence of 
his crime. He therefore asked to have the case re- 
opened, and the witnesses re-examined. Nothing 
followed. The Court hesitated to take up the case 
again, and throw discredit on the magistrates' decision 
in June. Again, on October 16, the Count renewed 
his request, and desired, if this were refused, that he 
and his solicitor might be allowed access to the 
minutes of the examination, that they might be 
enabled to take decided measures for the clearing of 
the Count's character, and the chastisement of those 
who charged him with an atrocious crime. On 



212 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

October 21, he received a reply, "that his request 
could not be granted, unless he produced such 
additional evidence as would show the Court that the 
former examination was defective." 

On October 25, the Count laid a mass of evidence 
before the Court which, he contended, would materially 
modify, if not absolutely upset the conclusion arrived 
at by the previous investigation. 

Then, at last, consent was given ; but proceedings 
did not begin till November, and dragged on till the 
end of October in the following year, when a new law 
of criminal trial having been passed in the grand- 
duchy, the whole of what had gone before became 
invalid, save as preliminary investigation, and it was 
not till March 4, 1850 — that is, not till three years 
after the death of the Countess — that the case was 
thoroughly sifted and settled. Before the promulga- 
tion of the law of October, 1848, all trials were private, 
then trial by jury, and in public, was introduced. 

However, something had been done. In August 
1848 — that is, over a year after the burial of the 
Countess — the body was exhumed and submitted to 
examination. Two facts were then revealed. The 
skull of the Countess had been fractured by some 
blunt instrument ; and she had been strangled. The 
condition in which the tongue had been found when 
the body was first discovered had pointed to strangu- 
lation, the state of the jaws when exhumed proved it. 
So much, then, was made probable. A murderer 
had entered the room, struck the Countess on the 
head, and when that did not kill her, he had throttled 
her. Then, apparently, so it was argued, he had 



THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 213 

burnt the body, and next, before it was more than 
half consumed, had placed it near the secretaire, and, 
finally, had set fire to the secretaire. 

He had set fire to the writing-desk to lead to the 
supposition that the Countess had set fire to herself 
whilst writing- at it ; and this was the first conclusion 
formed. 

That a struggle had taken place appeared from 
several circumstances. The bell-rope was torn down. 
Probably no servant had been in the house that Sun- 
day evening when the bell rang desperately for aid. 
The seat flung over seemed to point to her having 
been surprised at the desk. One shoe was in the 
boudoir. The struggle had been continued as she 
fled from the sitting-room into the inner apartment. 

Now, only, were the fire-marks on the divan and 
sofa explicable. The Countess had taken refuge first 
on one, then on the other, after having been wounded, 
and her blood had stained them. The murderer had 
burnt out the marks of blood. 

She had fled from the sitting-room to the boudoir, 
and thence had hoped to escape through the next 
door into a corner room, but the door of that room 
was locked. 

The next point to be determined was, 
where had her body been burnt. 

In the sitting-room, the boudoir, and 



room 



a locked corner room were stoves. The a " ' e m 



parlour 



walls of these rooms met, and in the 
angles were the stoves. They all communicated with 
one chimney. They were all heated from an opening 
in the anteroom, marked a, which closed with an iron 



214 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

door, and was covered with tapestry. The opening 
was large enough for a human being to be thrust 
through, and the fire-chamber amply large enough 
also for its consumption. 

Much time had passed since a serious examina- 
tion was begun, and it was too late to think of find- 
ing evidence of the burning of the body in this place. 
The stoves had been used since, each winter. How- 
ever, some new and surprising evidence did come to 
light. At five minutes past eight on the evening that 
the mysterious death took place, Colonel von Stock-- 
hausen was on the opposite side of the street talking 
to a lady, when his attention was arrested by a dense 
black smoke issuing suddenly from the chimney of 
the Count Goerlitz' palace. He continued looking at 
the column of smoke whilst conversing with the lady, 
uncertain whether the chimney were on fire or not, 
and whether he ought to give the alarm. When the 
lady left him, after about ten minutes, or a quarter of 
an hour, he saw that smoke ceased to issue from the 
chimney. He accordingly went his way without giv- 
ing notice of the smoke. 

So far every piece of evidence went to show that 
the Countess had been murdered. The conclusion 
now arrived at was this : she had been struck on the 
head, chased from room to room bleeding, had been 
caught, strangled, then thrust into the fire-chamber of 
the stove over a fire which only half consumed her ; 
taken out again and laid before the secretaire, and 
the secretaire deliberately set fire to, and all the 
blood-marks obliterated by fire. That something of 
this kind had taken place was evident. Who had 



THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 215 

done it was not so clear. The efforts of the Count 
to clear himself had established the fact that his 
wife was murdered, but did not establish his inno- 
cence. 

Suddenly — the case assumed a new aspect, through 
an incident wholly unexpected and extraordinary. 

The result of inquiry into the case of the death of 
the Countess Goerlitz was, that the decision that she 
had come to her end by accident, given by the city 
magistrates, was upset, and it was made abundantly 
clear that she had been murdered. By whom mur- 
dered was not so clear. 

Inquiry carried the conclusion still further. She 
had been robbed as well as murdered. 

We have already described the writing-desk of the 
Countess. There were drawers below the flap, and 
other smaller drawers concealed by it when closed. 
In the smaller drawers she kept her letters, her bills, 
her vouchers for investments; and her jewelry. 
Among the latter was the pearl and diamond neck- 
lace, which she desired by her will might be sold, and 
the money given to a charitable institution. The 
necklace was indeed discovered seriously injured ; but 
what had become of her bracelets, brooches, rings, her 
other necklets, her earrings ? She had also a chain 
of pearls, which was nowhere to be found. All these 
articles were gone. No trace of them had been found 
in the cinders under the secretaire ; moreover, the 
drawers in which she preserved them were not among 
those burnt through. In the first excitement and 
bewilderment caused by her death, the Count had 
not observed the loss, and the magistrates had not 



216 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

thought fit to inquire whether any robbery had been 
committed. 

A very important fact was now determined. The 
Countess had been robbed, and murdered, probably 
for the sake of her jewels. Consequently the mur- 
derer was not likely to be the Count. 

When the case was re-opened, at Count Goerlitz's 
repeated demand, an " Inquirent " was appointed by 
the Count to examine the case — that is, an official 
investigator of all the circumstances ; and on Novem- 
ber 2, 1847, in the morning, notice was given to the 
Count that the " Inquirent " would visit his mansion 
on the morrow and examine both the scene of the 
murder and the servants. The Count at once con- 
voked his domestics and bade them be in the house 
next day, ready for examination. 

That same afternoon the cook, Margaret Eyrich by 
name, was engaged in the kitchen preparing dinner 
for the master, who dined at 4 P.M. At three o'clock 
the servant-man, John Stauff, came into the kitchen 
and told the cook that her master wanted a fire lit in 
one of the upper rooms. She refused to go because 
she was busy at the stove. Stauff remained a quarter 
of an hour there talking to her. Then he said it was 
high time for him to lay the table for dinner, a remark 
to which she gave an assent, wondering in her own 
mind why he had delayed so long. He took up a 
soup dish, observed that it was not quite clean, and 
asked her to wash it. She was then engaged on some 
sauce over the fire. 

" I will wash it, if you will stir the sauce," she said. 
" If I leave the pan, the sauce will be burnt." 



THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 217 

Stauff consented, and she went with the dish to the 
sink. Whilst thus engaged, she turned her head, and 
was surprised to see that Stauff had a small phial in 
his hand, and was pouring its contents into the sauce. 

She asked him what he was about ; he denied 
having done anything, and the woman, with great 
prudence, said nothing further, so as not to let him 
think that her suspicions were aroused. Directly, 
however, that he had left the kitchen, she examined 
the sauce, saw it was discoloured, and on trying it, 
that the taste was unpleasant. She called in the 
■coachman and the housekeeper. On consultation 
they decided that this matter must be further investi- 
gated. The housekeeper took charge of the sauce, 
and carried it to Dr. Stegmayer, the family physician, 
who at once said that verdigris had been mixed with 
it, and desired that the police should be communi- 
cated with. This was done, the sauce was analysed, 
.and found to contain 15^ grains of verdigris, enough 
to poison a man. Thereupon Stauff was arrested. 

We see now that an attempt had been made on 
the life of the Count, on the day on which he had 
announced that an official inquiry into the murder was 
to be made in his house and among his domestics. 

Stauff, then, was apparently desirous of putting the 
Count out of the way before that inquiry was made. 
At this very time a terrible tragedy had occurred in 
France, and was in all the papers. The Duke of 
Praslin had murdered his wife, and when he was 
about to be arrested, the duke had poisoned himself. 

Did Stauff wish that the Count should be found 
poisoned that night, in order that the public might 



218 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

come to the conclusion he had committed suicide to 
escape arrest ? It would seem so. 

John Stauff's arrest took place on November 3 > 
1847, four months and a half after the death of the 
Countess. He was, however, only arrested on a 
charge of attempting to poison the Count, and the 
further charge of having murdered the Countess was 
not brought against him till August 28, 1848. The 
body of the murdered woman, it will be remembered,, 
was not exhumed and examined till August 11, 1848 
—eight months after the re-opening of the investiga- 
tion ! It is really wonderful that the mystery should 
have been cleared and the Count's character satisfac- 
torily vindicated, with such dilatoriness of proceeding. 
One more instance of the stupid way in which the 
whole thing was managed. Although John Stauff 
was charged with the attempt to poison on November 
3, 1847, he was not questioned on the charge till 
January 10, 1849, that is, till he had been fourteen, 
months in prison. 

It will be remembered that the bell-rope in the 
Countess's parlour was torn down. It would suggest 
itself to the meanest capacity that here was a point 
of departure for inquiry. If the bell had been torn 
down, it must have pealed its summons for help 
through the house. Who was in the house at the 
time? If anyone was, why did he not answer the 
appeal? Inconceivable was the neglect of the magis- 
trates of Darmstadt in the first examination — they 
did not inquire. Only several months later was this 
matter subjected to investigation. 

In the house lived the Count and Countess, the 



THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 219 

cook, who also acted as chambermaid to the Countess, 
Schiller, the valet to the Count, Schambs, the coach- 
man, and the Countess's own servant-man, John 
Stauff. Of these Schiller and Schambs did not sleep 
in the house. 

June 13, the day of the murder, was a Sunday. 
The Count went as usual to the grand-ducal palace 
in his coach at 3 P.M. The coachman drove him ; 
Stauff sat on the box beside the coachman. They left 
the Count at the palace and returned home. They 
were ordered to return to the palace to fetch him at 
6 p.m. On Sundays, the Count usually spent his day 
in his own suite of apartments, and the Countess in 
hers. On the morning in question she had come 
downstairs to her husband with a bundle of coupons 
which she wanted him to cash for her on the morrow. 
He managed her fortune for her. The sum was small, 
only £^0. At 2 P.M. she went to the kitchen to tell the 
cook she might go out for the afternoon, as she would 
not be wanted, and that she must return by 9 P.M. 

At three o'clock the cook left. The cook saw and 
spoke to her as she left. The Countess was then 
partially undressed, and the cook supposed she was 
changing her clothes. Shortly after this, Schiller, 
the Count's valet, saw and spoke with her. She was 
then upstairs in the laundry arranging the linen for the 
mangle. She was then in her morning cotton dress. 
Consequently she had not dressed herself to go out, 
as the cook supposed. At the same time the carriage 
left the court of the house for the palace. That was 
the last seen of her alive, except by John Stauff, and, 
if he was not the murderer, by one other. 



220 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

About a quarter past three the coach returned with 
Schambs and StaufF on the box. The Count had 
been left at the palace. The coachman took out his 
horses, without unharnessing them, and left for his 
own house, at half-past three, to remain there till 5 
o'clock, when he must return, put the horses in, and 
drive back to the palace to fetch the Count. A 
quarter of an hour after the coachman left, Schiller 
went out for a walk with his little boy. 

Consequently — none were in the house but the 
Countess and Stauff, and Stauff knew that the house 
was clear till 5 o'clock, when Schambs would re- 
turn to the stables. What happened during that 
time ? 

At a quarter past four, the wife of Schiller came to 
the house with a little child, and a stocking she was 
knitting. She wanted to know if her husband had 
gone with the boy to Eberstadt, a place about four 
miles distant. She went to the back-door. It was 
not fastened, but on being opened rang a bell, like a 
shop door. Near it were two rooms, one occupied 
by Schiller, the other by Stauff. The wife went into 
her husband's room and found it empty. Then she 
went into that of Stauff. It also was empty. She 
returned into the entrance hall and listened. Every- 
thing was still in the house. She stood there some little 
while knitting and listening. Presently she heard steps 
descending the backstairs, and saw Stauff, with an 
apron about him, and a duster in his hand. She asked 
him if her husband had gone to Eberstadt, and he 
said that he had. Then she left the house. Stauff, 
however, called to her from the window to hold up 



THE COUNTESS G0ERL17Z. 221 

the child to him, to kiss. She did so, and then 
departed. 

Shortly after five, Schambs returned to the stable, 
put in the horses, and drove to the palace without 
seeing Stauff. He thought nothing of this, as Stauff 
usually followed on foot, in time to open the coach 
door for the Count. On this occasion, Stauff appeared 
at his post in livery, at a quarter to six. At half-past 
six both returned with their master to the house in 
Neckar Street. 

Accordingly, from half-past three to a quarter past 
four, and from half-past four to half-past five, Stauff 
was alone in the house with the Countess. But then, 
from a quarter to five to half-past five she was quite 
alone, and it was possible that the murder was com- 
mitted at that time. The Count, it will be remembered, 
on his return, went upstairs and knocked at the door 
of the Countess' apartments, without meeting with a 
response. Probably, therefore, she was then dead. 

At seven o'clock the coachman went away, and 
Stauff helped the Count to take off his court dining 
dress, and put on a light suit. He was with him till 
half-past seven, when the Count went out for a walk. 
The Count returned at half-past eight ; during an 
hour, therefore, Stauff was alone in the house with the 
Countess, or — her corpse. 

What occurred during that hour ? Here two inde- 
pendent pieces of evidence come in to assist us in 
determining what took place. At five minutes past 
eight, Colonel von Stockhausen had seen the column 
of black smoke issue from the chimney of the house ; 
it ascended, he said, some fifteen feet above the chim- 



222 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

ney, and was so dense that it rivetted his attention 
whilst he was talking to a lady. 

At about a quarter-past eight the smoke ceased. 

The reader may remember that the window of the 
inner boudoir did not look into the Neckar Street, 
but into a small side street. Immediately opposite 
lived a widow lady named Kekule. On the evening 
in question, her daughter, Augusta, a girl of eighteen, 
came in from a walk, and went upstairs to the room 
the window of which was exactly opposite, though at 
a somewhat higher level than the window of the 
boudoir. Looking out of her window, Augusta 
Kekule saw to her astonishment a flickering light like 
a lambent flame in the boudoir. A blind was down, 
so that she could see nothing distinctly. She was, 
however, alarmed, and called her brother Augustus, 
aged twenty years, and both watched the flames flash- 
ing in the room. They called their mother also, 
and all three saw it flare up high, then decrease, 
and go out. The time was 8.15. On examina- 
tion of the spot, it was seen that the window of 
Miss Kekule commanded the corner of the boudoir, 
where was the divan partly burnt through in several 
places. 

What was the meaning of these two appearances, 
the smoke and the flame ? Apparently, from half- 
past seven to half-past eight the murderer was 
engaged in burning the body, and in effacing with fire 
the blood-stains on the sofas. During this time John 
Stauff was in the house, and, beside the Countess, 
alive or dead, John Stauff only. 

Stauff was now subjected to examination. He was 



THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 23 

required to account for his time on the afternoon and 
evening of Sunday, June 13. 

He said, that after his return from the palace, that 
is, about ten minutes past three, he went into his 
room on the basement, and ate bread and cheese. 
When told that the wife of Schiller stated she had 
seen him come downstairs, he admitted that he had 
run upstairs to fetch a duster, to brush away the bread 
crumbs from the table at which he had eaten. After 
the woman left, according to his own account, he re- 
mained in his room below till five o'clock, when the 
Countess came to the head of the stairs and called 
him. He went up and found her on the topmost 
landing ; she went into the laundry, and he stood in 
the door whilst she spoke to him, and gave him some 
orders for the butcher and baker. She wore, he said, 
a black stuff gown. Whilst he was talking to 'her, 
Schambs drove away to fetch the Count. He gave a 
correct account of what followed, up to the departure 
of the Count on his walk. After that, he said, he 
had written a letter to his sweetheart, and at eight 
went out to get his supper at an outdoor restaurant 
where he remained till half-past nine. He was unable 
to produce evidence of anyone who had seen him and 
spoken to him there ; but, of course, much cannot be 
made of this, owing to the distance of time at which 
the evidence was taken from the event of the murder. 
According to his account, therefore, no one was in 
the house at the time when the smoke rose from 
the chimney, and the flame was seen in the bou- 
doir. 

If we sum up the points determined concerning the 



224 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

murder of the Countess, we shall see how heavily the 
evidence told against Stauff. 

She had been attacked in her room, and after a 
desperate struggle, which went on in both parlour and 
boudoir, she had been killed. 

Her secretaire had been robbed. 

Her body had been burnt. 

The blood-stains had been effaced by fire. 

The secretaire had been set fire to ; and, apparently, 
the body removed from where it had been partially 
consumed, and placed near it. 

Now all this must have taken time. It could only 
be done by one who knew that he had time in which 
to effect it undisturbed. 

John Stauff was at two separate times, in the after- 
noon and evening, alone in the house for an hour, 
knowing that during that time he would be undis- 
turbed. 

If his account were true, the murder must have 
been committed during his brief absence with the 
coach, and the burning of the body, and setting fire 
to the room, done when he went out to get his supper. 
But — how could the murderer suppose he would leave 
the house open and unprotected at eight o'clock ? 
Was it likely that a murderer and robber, after having 
killed the Countess and taken her jewels at six o'clock, 
would hang about till eight, waiting the chance of 
getting back to the scene of his crime unobserved, to 
attempt to disguise it? not knowing, moreover, how 
much time he would have for effecting his purpose ? 

It was possible that this had been done, but it was 
not probable. 



THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 225 

Evidence was forthcoming from a new quarter that 
served to establish the guilt of Stauff. 

On October 6, 1847, an oilman, Henry Stauff, in 
Oberohmen, in Hesse Cassel, was arrested, because 
he was found to be disposing of several articles of 
jewelry, without being able to give a satisfactory 
account of where he got them. The jewelry consisted 
of a lump of molten gold, and some brooches, bracelets 
and rings. 

Henry Stauff had been a whitesmith in his youth, 
then he became a carrier, but in the last few years, 
since the death of his wife, he had sold knives, and 
been a knife-grinder. He was very poor, and had 
been unable to pay his rates. In July of 1847, how- 
ever, his affairs seemed to have mended ; he wore a 
silver watch, and took out a licence to deal in oil and 
seeds. When he applied for the patent, the burgo- 
master was surprised, and asked him how he could get 
stock to set up business, in his state of poverty. 
Thereupon, Henry Stauff opened his purse and 
showed that it contained a good amount of silver, and 
— with the coins was a gold ring with, apparently, a 
precious stone in it. 

The cause of his arrest was his offering the lump 
of gold to a silversmith in Cassel. It looked so much 
as if it was the melting up of jewelry, that the smith 
communicated with the police. On his arrest, Henry 
Stauff said he was the father of four children, two 
sons and two daughters ; that his sons,^one of whom 
was in the army, had sent him money, that his 
daughter in America had given him the jewelry, and 
that the gold he had had by him for several years, it 



226 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

had been given him by a widow, who was dead. The 
silver watch he had bought in Frankfort. Henry 
Stauff had a daughter at home, name Anna Margar- 
etta, who often received letters from Darmstadt. One 
of these letters had not been stamped, and as she 
declined to pay double for it, it lay in the post-office 
till opened to be returned. Then it was found to be 
dated September 29, 1847, and to be from her brother, 
John Stauff. It simply contained an inclosure to her 
father ; this was opened ; it contained an angry re- 
monstrance with him for not having done what he 
was required, and sent the money at once to the writer. 

Was it possible that this had reference to the dis- 
posal of the jewelry ? 

On July 7, three weeks after the death of the 
Countess, Henry Stauff was at Darmstadt, where one 
son, Jacob, was in the army ; the other, John, was in 
service with the Goerlitz family. 

This led the magistrates in Cassel to communicate 
with those in Darmstadt. On November 10, John 
Stauff was questioned with reference to his father. 
He said he had often sent him money. He was shown 
the jewelry, and asked if he recognised it. He denied 
having ever seen it, and having sent it to his father. 

The jewelry was shown to Count Goerlitz, and he 
immediately identified it as having belonged to his 
wife. A former lady's-maid of the Countess also 
identified the articles. The Count, and a maid, as- 
serted that these articles had always been kept by 
the deceased lady in the small upper drawers of her 
secretaire. The Countess was vain and miserly, and 
often looked over her jewelry. She would, certainly, 



THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 227 

have missed her things had they been stolen before 
June 13. 

The articles had not been stolen since, found 
among the ashes, and carried off surreptitiously, for 
they showed no trace of fire. 

Here we must again remark on the extraordinary 
character of the proceedings in this case. The articles 
were identified and shown to John Stauff on Novem- 
ber 10, 1847, but it was not till ten months after, on 
August 28, 1848, that he was told that he was sus- 
pected of the murder of the Countess, and of having 
robbed her of these ornaments. Another of the 
eccentricities of the administration of justice in Darm- 
stadt consisted in allowing the father Henry, and his 
son John, to have free private communication with 
each other, whilst the latter was in prison, and thus 
allowing them to concoct together a plausible account 
of their conduct, with which, however, we need not 
trouble ourselves. 

On September 1, 1848, on the fourth day after 
Stauff knew that he was charged with the murder of 
the Countess, he asked to make his statement of what 
really took place. This was the account he gave. 
It will be seen that, from the moment he knew the 
charge of murder was brought against him, he altered 
his defence. 

He said, " On June 20, 1847," (that is, a week after 
the murder), " about ten o'clock in the evening, after 
the Count had partaken of his supper and undressed, 
he brought me a box containing jewelry, and told me 
he would give it to me, as I was so poor, and that it 
would place my father and me in comfortable circum- 



228 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

stances. I then told the Count that I did not know 
what to do with these jewels, whereupon he exhorted 
me to send them to my father, and get him to dispose 
of them. He told me that he required me solemnly 
to swear that I would not tell anyone about the 
jewels. I hid the box in a stocking and concealed it 
in some bushes on the Bessungen road. Later I told 
my brother Jacob where they were, and bade him 
give them to my father on his visit to Darmstadt." 

When Stauff was asked what reason he could 
assign for the Count giving him the jewels, he said 
that the Count saw that he, John Stauff, suspected 
him of the murder, and he named several circum- 
stances, such as observing blood on the Count's hand- 
kerchief on the evening of the murder, which had led 
him to believe that the Count was guilty, and the 
Count was aware of his suspicions. 

On March 4, 1850, began the trial of John Stauff 
for the murder of the Countess, for robbery, for arson, 
and for attempt to poison the Count. 

At the same time his father, Henry Stauff, and his 
brother, Jacob Stauff, were tried for concealment of 
stolen goods. The trial came to an end on April 11. 
As many as 118 witnesses were heard ; among these 
was the Count Goerlitz, as to whose innocence no 
further doubts were entertained. 

John Stauff was at that time aged twenty-six, he 
was therefore twenty-four years old at the time of 
the murder. He had been at school at Oberohmen, 
where he had shown himself an apt and intelligent 
scholar. In 1844 he had entered the grand-ducal 
army, and in May 1846 had become servant in the 



THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 229 

Goerlitz house, as footman to the Countess. In his 
regiment he had behaved well ; he had been accounted 
an excellent servant, and both his master and mistress 
placed confidence in him. Curiously enough, in the 
autumn of 1846, he had expressed a wish to a cham- 
bermaid of the Countess " that both the Countess and 
her pack of jewels, bracelets and all, might be burnt in 
one heap." 

When the maid heard of the death of the Countess 
in the following year, " Ah ! " she said, " now Stauff' s 
wish has been fulfilled to the letter." 

He was fond of talking of religion, and had the 
character among his fellow-servants of being pious. 
He was, however, deep in debt, and associated with 
women of bad character. Throughout the trial he 
maintained his composure, his lips closed, his colour 
pale, without token of agitation. But the man who 
could have stood by without showing emotion at the 
opening of the coffin of his mistress, at the sight of 
the half-burnt, half-decomposed remains of his victim, 
must have had powers of self-control of no ordinary 
description. During the trial he seemed determined 
to show that he was a man of some culture ; he ex- 
hibited ease of manner and courtesy towards judges, 
jury, and lawyers. He never interrupted a witness, 
and when he questioned them, did so with intelli- 
gence and moderation. He often looked at the 
public, especially the women, who attended in great 
numbers, watching the effect of the evidence on their 
minds. When, as now and then happened, some 
ludicrous incident occurred, he laughed over it as 
heartily as the most innocent looker-on. 



230 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

The jury unanimously found him " guilty " on 
every count. They unanimously gave a verdict of 
" guilty " against his father and brother. Henry 
Stauff was sentenced to six months' imprisonment ; 
Jacob Stauff to detention for three months, and John 
to imprisonment for life. At that time capital punish- 
ment could not be inflicted in Hesse. 

On June 3, he was taken to the convict prison of 
Marienschloss. On July 1, he appealed to the Grand- 
Duke to give him a free pardon, as he was innocent 
of the crimes for which he was sentenced. The 
appeal was rejected. Then he professed his inten- 
tion of making full confession. He asked to see the 
Count. He professed himself a broken-hearted peni- 
tent, desirous of undoing, by a sincere confession, as 
much of the evil as was possible. 

We will give his confession in his own words. 

" When, at five o'clock, I went to announce to the 
Countess that I was about to go to the palace, I 
found both the glass door of the ante-room, and that 
into the sitting-room, open, and I walked in through 
them. I did not find the Countess in her parlour, of 
which the curtains were drawn. Nor was she in her 
boudoir. I saw the door into the little corner room 
ajar, so I presumed she was in there. The flap of 
her desk was down, so that I saw the little drawers, 
in which I knew she kept her valuables, accessible to 
my hand. Opportunity makes the thief. I was 
unable to resist the temptation to enrich myself by 
these precious articles. I opened one of the drawers, 
took out a gold bracelet, one of gold filigree, two of 
bronze, a pair of gold ear-rings, a gold brooch, and a 



THE COUNTESS G0ERL1TZ. 231 

triple chain of beads or Roman pearls ; and pocketed 
these articles, which my father afterwards had, and, 
for the most part, melted up. 

" Most of these articles were in their cases. At 
that moment the Countess appeared on the threshold 
of her boudoir and rushed towards me. I do not 
remember what she exclaimed ; fear for the conse- 
quences, and anxiety to prevent the Countess from 
making a noise and calling assistance, and thereby 
obtaining my arrest, prevailed in my mind, and I 
thought only how I might save myself. I grasped 
her by the neck, and pressed my thumbs into her 
throat. She struggled desperately. I was obliged to 
use all my strength to hold her. After a wrestle of 
between five and seven minutes, her eyes closed, her 
face became purple, and I felt her limbs relax. 

" When I saw she was dead I was overcome with 
terror. I let the body fall, whereby the head struck 
the corner of the left side of the secretaire, and this 
made a wound which began to bleed. Then I ran 
and locked both the doors, hid what I had taken in 
my bed, and left the house. On my way to the 
palace, I stepped into Frey's tavern and drank three 
glasses of wine. I was afraid I should arrive too late 
at the palace, where I appeared, however, at half-past 
five. The Count did not return till half-past six, as 
dinner that day lasted rather longer than usual. 

" When the Count went upstairs to see his wife and 
take her something good he had brought away with 
him from table, I was not uneasy at all, for I knew 
that he would knock and come away if he met with 
no response. So he did. He came down without 



232 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

being discomposed, and remarked that he fancied the 
Countess had gone out. At half-past seven he left 
the house. In the mean time I had been considering 
what to do, and had formed my plan. Now my 
opportunity had arrived, and I hastened to put it into 
execution. My plan was to efface every trace of my 
deed by fire, and to commit suicide if interrupted. 

" As the weather was chilly, the Count had some 
fire in his stove. I fetched the still glowing charcoal, 
collected splinters of firwood and other combustibles, 
and matches, and went upstairs with them. Only 
the wine sustained me through what I carried out. I 
took up the body. I put a chair before the open 
desk, seated the corpse on it, placed one arm on the 
desk, laid the head on the arm, so that the body 
reposed in a position of sleep, leaning on the flap of 
the desk. I threw the red hot charcoal down under 
the head, heaped matches, paper, and wood splinters 
over them ; took one of the blazing bits of wood and 
threw it on the divan in the boudoir ; locked both 
doors, and flung away the keys. 

" Then I went to my own room and lighted a fire 
in the stove, and put the jewel cases on the fire. The 
fire would not burn well, and thick smoke came into 
the room. Then I saw that the damper was closed. 
I opened that, and the smoke flew up the chimney ; 
this is what Colonel von Stockhausen saw. There 
were a lot of empty match-boxes also in the stove, 
and these burnt with the rest." 

Such was the confession of Stauff. How far true, 
it is impossible to say. He said nothing about the 
bell-pull being torn down, nothing about the holes 



THE COUNTESS GOERLITZ. 233 

burnt in the sofa of the sitting-room. According to 
the opinion of some experimentalists, the way in 
which he pretended to have burnt the Countess would 
not account for the appearance of the corpse. 

His object was to represent himself as the victim 
of an over-mastering temptation — to show that the 
crime was wholly unpremeditated. 

This was the sole plea on which he could appeal 
for sympathy, and expect a relaxation of his sentence. 

That sentence was relaxed. 

In 1872 he obtained a free pardon from the Grand- 
Duke, on condition that he left the country and 
settled in America. Including his imprisonment 
before his trial, he had, therefore, undergone twenty- 
five years of incarceration. 

When released he went to America, where he 
probably still is. 



a Way-an&-1bone£-fll>oon* 

In the history of Selenography, John Henry Maedler 
holds a distinguished place. He was the very first to 
publish a large map of the lunar surface ; and his 
map was a good one, very accurate, and beautifully 
executed, in four sheets (1834-6). For elucidation of 
this map he wrote a book concerning the moon, en- 
titled " The Universal Selenography." Not content 
with this, he published a second map of the moon in 
1837, embodying fresh discoveries. Indeed as an 
astronomer, Maedler was a specialist. Lord Dufferin 
when in Iceland met a German naturalist who had 
gone to that inclement island to look for one moth. 
It is of the nature of Teutonic scientific men not to 
diffuse their interests over many branches of natural 
history or other pursuits, but to focus them on a 
single point. Maedler was comparatively indifferent 
to the planets, cold towards the comets, and callous 
to the attractions of the nebulae. On the subject of 
the moon, he was a sheer lunatic. 

He died at Hanover in 1874 at the age of eighty, a 
moon gazer to the last. Indeed, he appeared before 
the public as the historian of that science in a work 
published at Brunswick, the year previous to his 
death. ' The study of astronomy, more than any other,. 
— even than theology — detaches a man from the 
world and its interests. Indeed theology as a study 



A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 235 

has a tendency to ruffle a man, and make him 
bark and snap at his fellow men who use other 
telescopes than himself; it is not so with astronomy. ^ 
(This science exercises a soothing influence on those 
who make it their study, so that an Adams and a Le 
Verrier can simultaneously discover a Neptune with- 
out flying at each other's noses. 

/Astronomy is certainly an alluring science ; set an 
astronomer before a telescope, and an overwhelming 
attraction draws his soul away through the tube up 
into heaven, and leaves his body without mundane 
interests. 'An astronomer is necessarily a mathemati- 
cian, and mathematics are the hardest and most 
petrifying of studies. The " humane letters," as 
classic studies are called, draw out the human in- 
terests, they necessarily carry men among men, but 
mathematics draw men away from all the interests of 
their fellows. The last man one expects to find in 
love, the last man in whose life one looks for a 
romantic episode, is a mathematician and astronomer. 
But as even Caesar nods, so an astronomer may lapse 
into spooning. The life of Professor Maedler does 
not contain much of animated interest ; but it had its 
poetic incident. The curious story of his courtship 
and marriage may be related without indiscretion, 
now that the old Selenographer is no more. 

(Even the most prosaic of men have their time of 
poetry. The swan is said to sing only once — just be- 
fore it dies. The man of business — the stockbroker, 
the insurance-company manager, the solicitor, banker, 
the ironmonger, butcher, greengrocer, postman, have 
all passed through a " moment," as Hegel would call 



236 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

it, when the soul burst through its rind of common- 
place and vulgar routine, sang its nightingale song, 
and then was hushed for ever after. It is said that 
there are certain flowers which take many years com- 
ing to the point of bloom, they open, exhale a flood 
of incense, and in an hour wither. It is so with many. 
Even the astronomer has his blooming time. Then, 
after the honeymoon, the flower withers, the song 
ceases, the sunshine fades, and folds of the fog of 
common-place settle deeper than before. 

£lvan Turgenieff, the Russian novelist, says of love, 
f It is not an emotion, it is a malady, attacking soul 
and body. It is developed without rule, it cannot be 
reckoned with, it cannot be overreached. It lays 
hold of a man, without asking leave, like a fever or 
the cholera. It seizes on its prey as a falcon on a 
dove, and carries it, where it wills. There is no 
equality in love. The so-termed free inclination of 
souls towards each other is an idle dream of German 
professors, who have never loved. No ! of two who 
love, one is the slave, the other is the lord, and not 
inaccurately have the poets told of the chains of 
love." 

But love when it does lay hold of a man assumes 
some features congruent to his natural habit. It is 
hardly tempestuous in a phlegmatic temperament, 
nor is a man of sanguine nature liable to be much in- 
fluenced by calculations of material advantages. 
That calculations should form a constituent portion 
of the multiform web of a mathematician's passion is 
what we might anticipate. 

It will be interesting to see in a German professor 



A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 237 

devoted to the severest, most abstract and super- 
mundane of studies, the appearance, course, and dying 
away of the " malady " of love. We almost believe 
that this case is so easy of analysis that the very 
bacillus may be discovered. 

Before, however, we come to the story of Professor 
Maedler's love episode, we must say a word about his 
previous history. 

Maedler was born at Berlin on May 29th, 1794, in 
the very month of love, though at its extreme end. 
He began life as a schoolmaster, but soared in his 
leisure hours into a purer atmosphere than that of the 
schoolroom ; he began to study the stars, and found 
them brighter and more interesting than the heads of 
his pupils. 

In 1828 William Beer, the Berlin banker, brother of 
the great composer, Meyerbeer, a Jew, built a small 
observatory in the suburbs of Berlin. He had made 
the acquaintance of Maedler, they had the same love 
of the stars, and they became close friends. 

The Beers were a gifted family, running out in 
different directions. Michael, a third brother, was a 
poet, and wrote tragedies, one or two of which occa- 
sionally reappear on the boards. 

The result of the nightly star gazings was an article 
on Mars when in opposition, with a drawing of the 
surface as it appeared to Beer and Maedler, through 
the telescope of the former. 

But Mars did not admit of much further scrutiny, 
it presented no more problems they were capable of 
solving, so they devoted themselves to the moon. A 
gourmand exists from dinner to dinner, that meal is 



238 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

the climax of his vitality, that past he lapses into in- 
ertness, indifference, quiescence. Full moon was the 
exciting moment of the periods in Maedler's life, 
which was divided, not like a gourmand's day, into 
periods of twenty-four hours, but into lunar months. 
When the moon began to show, Maedler began to live ; 
his interest, the pulses of his life quickened as full moon 
approached, then declined and went to sleep when there 
was no lunar disc in the sky. From 1834 to 1836 he 
issued his great map of the moon, and so made his 
name. But beyond that, in the summer of 1833 he 
was employed by the Russian Government on a 
chronometrical expedition in the Baltic. 

When his map came out, he was at once secured by 
the Prussian Government as assistant astronomer to 
the observatory at Berlin, recently erected. In 1840 
he became a professor, and was summoned to take 
charge of the observatory, and lecture on astronomy, 
in the Russian University of Dorpat. There he spent 
six uneventful years. He was unmarried, indifferent 
to female society, and as cold as his beloved moon. 
He was as solitary, as far removed from the ideas of 
love and matrimony, as the Man in the Moon. 

/At last, one vacation time, he paid a long deferred 
visit to a friend, a Selenologist, at Groningen, the 
University of the Kingdom of Hanover. Whilst 
smoking, drinking beer, and talking over the craters 
and luminous streaks in the moon, with his friend, 
who was also a professor, that gentleman drew his 
pipe from his mouth, blew a long spiral from between 
his lips, and then said slowly, " By the way, professor, 
are you aware that we have here, in this kingdom, 



A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 239 

not, indeed, in Groningen, but in the town of Hanover, 
a lady, the wife of the Herr Councillor Witte, who is, 
like yourself, devoted to the moon ; a lady, who 
spends entire nights on the roof of her house peering 
at the face of the moon through one end — the smaller 
— of her telescope, observing all the prominences, 
measuring their altitudes, and sounding all the cavities. 
Indeed, it is asserted that she studies the face and 
changes of the moon much more closely than the 
features and moods of her husband. Also, it is 
asserted, that when the moon is shining, the house- 
hold duties are neglected, the dinners are bad, the 
maids — " 

'' O dinners ! maids ! ycu need not consider them ; 
there are always dinners and maids," said the Dorpat 
astronomer contemptuously, " but the moon is seen so 
comparatively rarely. The moon must be made much 
of when she shows. Everything must then be sacrificed 
to her." 

Dr. Maedler did not call the moon she, but he ; 
however, we are writing in English, not in German, so 
we change the gender. 

[ The Astronomer Royal of the University of 
Groningen went on, without noticing the interruption: 
u Frau von Witte has spent a good deal of her 
husband's money in getting the largest procurable 
telescope, and has built an observatory for it with a 
dome that revolves on cannon balls, on the top of her 
house. Whilst Herr von Witte slumbers and snores 
beneath, like a Philistine, his enlightened lady is aloft, 
studying the moon. The Frau Councilloress has done 
more than observe Luna, she has done more than you 



240 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

and Beer together, with your maps — she has modelled 
it." 

"Modelled it ! — modelled the moon ! — in what ? ' 

" In white wax." 

Professor Maedler's countenance fell. He had 
gained great renown, not in Germany only, but 
throughout Europe by his maps of the moon. Here 
was an unknown lady, as enthusiastic a devotee to 
the satellite as himself, who had surpassed him. 
"You see," continued the Hanoverian professor, "the 
idea is superb, the undertaking colossal. You have a 
fixed strong light, you make the wax moon to revolve 
on its axis, and you reproduce in the most surprising 
and exact manner, all the phases of the moon itself." 

This was indeed an idea. Maedler looked at his 
hands, his fingers. Would they be capable of model- 
ling such a globe? Hardly, he had very broad coarse 
hands, and thick flat fingers, like paddles. He 
suddenly stood up. 

" What is the matter ? Whither are you going ? " 
asked his friend. 

" To Hanover, to Frau Witte, to see the wax moon." 
No persuasion would restrain him, he was in a seleno- 
logical fever, he could not sleep, he could not eat, he 
could not read, he must see the wax moon. 

And now, pray observe the craft of Cupid. The 
professor was aged fifty-two. In vain had the damsels 
of Berlin and Dorpat set their caps at him. Not a 
blonde beauty of Saxon race with blue eyes had 
caught his fancy, not a dark Russian with large hazel 
eyes and thick black hair, had arrested his attention. 
His heart had been given to the cold, chaste Diana. 



A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 241 

It was, with him, the reverse of the tale of Endy- 
mion. 

/He had written a treatise on the occultation of 
Mars, he had described the belts of Saturn, he had 
even measured his waist. Venus he had neglected, 
and now Cupid was about to avenge the slight passed 
on his mother. There was but one avenue by which 
access might be had to the professor's heart. The 
God of Love knew it, and resolved to storm the 
citadel through this avenue. Dr. Maedler packed his 
trunk himself in the way in which unmarried men 
and abstract thinkers do pack their portmanteaus. 
He bundled all his clothes in together, higglety- 
pigglety. The only bit of prudence he showed was 
to put the pomatum pot into a stocking. His collars 
he curled up in the legs of his boots. Copies of his 
astronomical pamphlets for presentation, lay in layers 
between his shirts. Then as the trunk would not 
close, the Professor of Astronomy sat down heavily 
on it, stood up, then sharply sat down on it again, and 
repeated this operation, till coats, trousers, linen, 
pamphlets, brushes and combs had been crushed 
together into one cohesive mass, and so the lock 
would fasten. 

I I*To sooner was Dr. Maedler arrived at his inn in 
Hanover, and had dusted the collar of his coat, and 
revolved before the gargon who went over him with a 
clothes brush, revolved like the moon he loved, than 
he sallied forth in quest of the house of the Wittes. 
There was no mistaking it — with the domed observa- 
tory on the roof. 
/"Dr. Maedler stood in the square, looking up at it. 

Q 



242 HISTORIC ODDITIES, 

The sight of an observatory touched him ; and now, 
hard and dry as he was, moisture came into his eyes, 
as he thought that there, on that elevated station, an 
admirable woman spent her nights in the contempla- 
tion of the moon. What was Moses on Pisgah, viewing 
the Promised Land, what was Simeon Stylites brav- 
ing storm and cold, to this spectacle ? 

Never before had the astronomer met with one of 
the weaker sex who cared a button for the moon, qua 
moon, and not as a convenience for illumining lovers' 
meetings, or for an allusion in a valentine. Here was 
an heroic soul which surged, positively surged above the 
frivolities of her sex, one who aspired to be the rival 
of man in intelligence and love of scientific research. 

Professor Maedler sent in his card, and a letter of 
introduction from his friend at Groningen, and was at 
once admitted. He had formed an ideal picture of 
the Selenographic lady, tall, worn with night watch- 
ing, with an arched brow, large, clear eyes. He found 
her a fat little woman, with a face as round and as 
fiat as that of the moon, not by any means pale, but 
red as the moon in a fog. 

<The lady was delighted to make the acquaintance 
of so renowned an astronomer. She made him pretty 
speeches about his map, at the same time letting him 
understand that a map was all very well, but she 
knew of something better. Then she launched out 
into a criticism of his pamphlets on Mars and Saturn, 
on which, as it happened, he was then sitting. He 
had put a crumpled copy in each of his tail-coat 
pockets for an offering, and was now doubly crump- 
ling them. Then she asked his opinion about the 



/ 



A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 243 

revolution and orbit of Biela's comet, which had been 
seen the preceding year. Next she carried him to 
Hencke's recently discovered planet, Astraea ; after 
that she dashed away, away with him to the nebulae, 
and sought to resolve them with his aid. Then down 
they whirled together through space to the sun, and 
the luminous red protuberances observable at an 
eclipse. Another step, and they were plunging down 
to earth, had reached it in safety, and were discussing 
Lord Rosses recently erected telescope. It was like 
Dante and Beatrix, with this difference, that Maedler 
was not a poet, and Frau Witte was a married woman. 

The Professor was uneasy. Charming as is a tele- 
scope, delightful as is the sun, fascinating as Astraea 
may be, still, the moon, the moon was what he had 
come to discuss, and wax moon what he had come to 
see. 

f So he exercised all his skill, and with great dialectic 
ability conducted his Beatrix away on another round. 
They gave the fixed stars a wide berth, dived in and 
out among the circling planets and planetoids with- 
out encountering one, avoided the comets, kept their 
feet off nebulous matter, and at last he planted his 
companion firmly on the moon, and when there, there 
he held her. 

To her words of commendation of his lunar map, 
he replied by expressing his astonishment at her 
knowledge of the several craters and so-called seas. 
Presently Frau Witte rose with a smile, and said, 
" Herr Professor, I may, perhaps, be allowed to ex- 
hibit a trifle on which I have been engaged for many- 
years : — an independent work that I have compared 



244 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

with, but not copied from, your excellent selenic 
map." 

The doctor's heart fluttered ; his eyes brightened ; 
a hectic flush came into his cheeks. 

Frau Witte took a key and led the way to her 
study, where she threw open a mahogany cupboard, 
and exposed to view something very much like a 
meat cover. This also she removed, it was composed 
of the finest silk stretched on a frame, and exposed to 
view — the wax moon. 

<TThe globe was composed of the purest white bees- 
wax, it stood upon a steel needle that passed through 
it, and rested on pivots, so that the globe was held 
up and held firm, and could be easily made to revolve.. 
Frau Witte closed the shutters, leaving open only one 
orifice through which the light could penetrate and 
fall on the wax ball. 

The doctor raised his hands in admiration. Never 
had he seen anything that so delighted him. The 
globe's surface had been most delicately manipulated. 
The mountains were pinched into peaks, the hollows 
indented to the requisite depth, the craters were 
rendered with extraordinary precision, the striae being 
indicated by insertions of other tinted wax. A sha- 
dow hung sombre over the mysterious Sea of 
Storms. 

Professor Maedler returned to his hotel a prey to 
emotion. He inquired the address of a certain Roll- 
mann, whom he had known in former years at Berlin, 
and who was now professor in the Polytechnic school 
at Hanover. Then he rushed off in quest of Roll- 
mann. The Polytechnic Professor was delighted to- 



A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 245 

see his friend, but disturbed at the condition of mind 
in which he found him. 

" What has brought you to Hanover, dear Pro- 
fessor ? " he asked. 

" The moon ! the moon ! I have come after the 
moon." 

" The moon ! How can that be ? She shines 
over Dorpat as surely as over our roofs in Han- 
over." 

" I've just seen her." 

"Impossible. The moon is new. Besides, it is 
broad daylight." 

" New ! of course she is new. Only made lately." 

Professor Rollman was puzzled. 

" The moon is certainly as old as the world, and 
•even if we give the world so limited an age as four 
thousand years — " 

" I was not allowed to touch her, scarcely to breathe 
near her," interrupted Maedler. 

" My dear colleague, what is the matter with you ? 
You are — what do you say, seen, touched, breathed 
on the moon ? The distance of the moon from the 
■earth is two hundred and forty thousand, miles." 

" Not the old moon — I mean the other." 

" There is no other, that is, not another satellite to 
this world. I am well aware that Jupiter has four 
moons, two of which are smaller than the planet Mars. 
I know also that Mars — " 

" My dear Rollman, there is another — here in Han- 
over." 

" I give it up. I cannot understand." 

" Happy Hanover to possess such an unique trea- 



246 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

sure," continued the excited Maedler, " and such a 
woman as Frau Witte." 

" Oh ! her wax moon ! " said Rollmann, with a sigh 
of relief. 

" Of what else could I speak ? " 

" So you have seen that. The old lady is very 
proud of her performance." 

" She has cause to be proud of it. It is simply 
superb." 

" And the sight of it has nearly sent you off your 
head ! " 

" Rollmann ! what will become of that model ? 
Frau Councilloress Witte will not live for ever. She 
is old, puffy, and red, and might have apoplexy any 
day. Is her husband an astronomer ? " 

" O dear no ! he regards astronomy as as unprofit- 
able a study as astrology. It is quite as expensive a 
pursuit, he says." 

" Merciful heavens ! Suppose she were to prede- 
cease — he would have the moon, and be unable to 
appreciate it. He might let it get dusty, have the 
craters and seas choked ; perhaps the mountain-tops 
knocked off. He must not have it." 

" It cannot be helped. The moon must take its 
chance." 

" It must not be. She must outlive the Councillor." 

"If you can manage that — well." 

" But — supposing she does outlive him, she is not 
immortal. Some day she must die. Who will have 
the moon then ? " 

" I suppose, her daughter." 

" What will the daughter do with it ? " 



A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 247 

" Melt it up for waxing the floors." 

Professor Maedler uttered a cry of dismay. 

"The object is one of incalculable scientific value. 
Has, the daughter no husband, a man of intelligence, 
to stay her hand ? " 

" The daughter is unmarried. There was some 
talk of a theological candidate — " 

" A theological candidate ! An embryo pastor ! 
Just powers ! These men are all obscurantists. He 
will melt up the moon thinking thereby to establish 
the authority of Moses." 

" That came to nothing. She is disengaged." 

Professor Maedler paced the room. Perspiration 
bedewed his brow. He wiped his forehead, more 
drops formed. Suddenly he stood still. " Rollmann," 
he said, in a hollow voice, " I must — I will have that 
moon, even if I have to marry the daughter to secure 
it." 

" By all means. Minna is a pleasant young lady." 

" Minna ! Minna ! is that her name ? " asked the 
distracted professor; then, more coolly, "I do not 
care a rush what her name is. I want, not her, but 
the moon." 

" She is no longer in the bloom of early youth." 

" She is an exhausted world ; a globe of volcanic 
cinder." 

" She is of real solid worth." 

" Solid — she is of solid wax — white beeswax." 

" If she becomes yours — " 

" I will exhibit her at my lectures to the students." 

"As you are so much older, some provision will 
have to be made in the event of your death." 



248 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

" I will leave her to the Dorpat museum, with 
directions to the curator to keep the dust off her." 

" My dear Professor Maedler, I am speaking of the 
young lady, yotc of the moon." 

" Ah so ! I had forgotten the incumbrance. Yes, 
I will marry the moon. I will carry her about with 
me, hug her in my arms, protect her most carefully 
from the fingers of the Custom House officers. I will 
procure an ukase from the Emperor to admit her 
un fingered over the frontier." 

"And Minna!" 

"What Minna?" 

"The young lady." 

"Ah so! She had slipped out of my reckoning. 
She shall watch the box whilst I sleep, and whilst 
she sleeps I will keep guard." 

" Be reasonable, Maedler. Do you mean, in sober 
earnest, to invite Minna Witte to be your wife ? " 

" If I cannot get the moon any other way." 

" But you have not even seen her yet." 

" What does that matter ? I have seen the moon." 

" And you are in earnest ! " 

" I will have the moon." 

" Then, of course, you will have to propose." 

" I propose !" 

" And, of course, to make love." 

" I make love ! " 

Professor Maedler's colour died away. He stood 
still before his friend, his pocket-handkerchief in 
hand, and stared. 

" I have not the remotest idea how to do it." 

"You must try." 



A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 249 

" I've had no experience. I am going on to fifty- 
three. As well ask me to dance on the trapeze. It 
is not proper. It is downright indecent." 

" Then you must do without the wax moon." 

" I cannot do without the wax moon." 

" Then, there is no help for it, you must make love 
to and propose to the fair Minna." 

" Friend," said the Russian-imperial-professor-of- 
astronomy-of-the-University-of-Dorpat, as he clasped 
Rollmann's hand. " You are experienced in the ways 
of the world. I have lived in an observatory, and associ- 
ated only with fixed stars, revolving moons, and comets. 
Tell me how to do it, and I will obey as a lamb." 

" You will have to sigh." 

" O ! I can do that." 

" And ogle the lady." 

" Ogle ! — when going fifty-three ! " 

" Learn a few lines of poetry." 

" Yes, Milton's Paradise Lost. Go on." 

" Tell the young lady that you heart is consumed 
with love." 

" Consumed with love, yes, go on." 

" Squeeze her hand." 

" I cannot ! That I cannot ! " gasped Professor 
Maedler. " Look at my whiskers. They are grey. 
There is a point beyond which I cannot go. Roll- 
mann, why may I not settle it all with the mother, 
and let you court the young lady for me by proxy." 

" No, no, you must do it yourself." 

" I would not be jealous. Consider, I care nothing 
for the young girl. It is the moon I want. That 
you shall not touch or breathe on." 



250 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

" My dear Maecller, you and I are sure to be in- 
vited to dine with the family on Sunday. After 
dinner we will take a stroll in the garden. During, 
dinner mind and be attentive to Miss Minna, and 
feed her with honeyed words. When we visit the 
garden I will tackle the mother, as Mephistopheles 
engages Martha, and you, you gay Faust, will have 
to be the gallant to Minna." 

" My good Rollmann ! I dislike the simile. It 
offends me. Consider my age, my whiskers, my 
position at the Dorpat University, my map of the 
moon in four sheets, my paper on the occultation of 
Mars." 

" Pay attention to me, if you want your wax globe. 
Frau Witte, the Councillor and I will sit drinking 
coffee in the arbour. You ask Minna to show you the 
garden. When you are gone I will begin at once with 
the mother, praise you, and say how comfortably you 
are provided for at Dorpat, laud your good qualities,, 
and bring her to understand that you are a suitor for 
the hand of her daughter. Meanwhile press your 
cause with ardour." 

" With ardour ! I shall not be able to get up any 
warmth." 

" Think of the wax moon ! direct your raptures to 
that." 

" This is all very well," said Maedler fretfully, " but. 
you have forgotten the main thing. I know you will 
make a mistake. You have asked for the hand of 
the daughter, and said nothing about the moon." 

" Do not be concerned." 

" But I am concerned. It would be a pretty mis- 



A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 2£l 

chief if I got the daughter's hand instead of the face 
of the moon." 

"I will manage that you have what you want. 
But the moon must not rise over the matrimonial 
scene till the preliminaries are settled. I will repre- 
sent to the old lady what credit will accrue to her if 
her moon be exhibited and lectured on at the Dorpat 
University by so distinguished an astronomer as 
yourself. Then, be well assured, she will give you 
the wax moon along with her daughter." 

" Very well, I will do what I can. Only, further, 
explain to me the whole process, that I may learn it 
by heart. It seems to me as knotty to a beginner as 
Euler's proof of the Binomial Theorem." 

" It is very easy. Pay attention. You must begin 
to talk about the fascination which a domestic life 
exerts on you ; you then say that the sight of such 
an united household as that in which you find your- 
self influences you profoundly." 

" I see. Causes a deflection in my perihelion. 
That deflection is calculable, the force excited calcul- 
able, the position of the attractive body estimable. I 
direct my telescope in the direction, and discover 
— Minna. Put astronomically, I can understand 
it." 

" But you must not put it astronomically to her. 
Paint in glowing tints the charms of the domestic 
hearth — that is to say, of the stove. Touch sadly on 
your forlorn condition, your unloved heart — are you 
paying attention, or thinking of the moon ? " 

" On the contrary, I was thinking of myself, from a 
planetary point of view. I see, a wife is a satellite 



252 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

revolving round her man. I see it all now. Jupiter 
has four." 

" Sigh ; let the corners of your mouth droop. 
Throw, if you can, an emotional vibration into your 
tones, and say that hitherto life has been to you a 
school, where you have been set hard tasks ; not a 
home. Here shake your head slowly, drop a tear if 
you can, and say again, in a low and thrilling voice, 
' Not a home ! ' Now for the poetry. Till now, you 
add, you have looked into the starry vault — " 
" It is not a vault at all." 

"Never mind; say this. Till now you have looked 
into the starry vault for your heaven, and not dreamed 
that a heaven full of peaceful lights was twinkling in- 
vitingly about your feet. That is poetical, is it not ? 
It must succeed/' 

" Quite so, I should never have thought of it." 
" Then turn, and look into Miss Minna's eyes." 
" But suppose she is looking in another direction ? " 
" She will not be. A lady is always ready to help 
a stumbling lover over the impediments in the way 
of a declaration. She will have her eyes at command, 
ready to meet yours." 
" Go on." 

" You will presently come to a rose tree. You 
must stop there and be silent. Then you must ad- 
mire the roses, and beg Miss Minna to present you 
with one." 

" But I do not want any roses. What can I do 
with them ? I am lodging at an hotel." 

" Never mind, you must want one. When she has 
picked and offered it — " 



A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 253-. 

" But perhaps she will not." 

" Fiddlesticks ! Of course she will. Then take 
the rose, press your lips to it, and burst forth into 
raptures." 

" Excuse me, how am I to do the raptures ? " 

" Think of the wax moon, man. Exclaim, ' Oh 
that I might take the fair Minna, fairer than this rose,, 
to my heart, as I apply this flower to my button- 
hole ! ' " 

" Shall I say nothing about the wax moon ? " 

" Not a word. Leave me to manage that." 

" Go on." 

" Then she will look down, confused, at the gravel, 
and stammer. Press her for a Yes or No. Promise 
to destroy yourself if she says No. Take her hand 
and squeeze it." 

" Must I squeeze it? About how much pressure to 
the square-foot should I apply ? " 

" Then say, ' Come, let us go to your parents, and 
obtain their blessing.' The thing is done." 

" But suppose she were to say No ? " 

Rollmann stamped with impatience. " I tell you 
she will not say No, now that the theological candi- 
date has dropped through." 

" Well," said Professor Maedler, " I must go along 
with it, now I have made up my mind to it. But, on 
my word, as an exact reasoner, I had no idea of the 
difficulties men have to go through to get married. 
Why, the calculation of the deflections of the planets 
is nothing to it. And the Grand Turk, like Jupiter, 
has more satellites than one ! " 



254 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

A few months after the incident above recorded 
Professor Maedler returned to Dorpat, not alone ; 
with him was the Frau Professorinn — Minna. Every- 
thing had gone off in the garden as Rollmann had 
planned. 

The moon and Minna, or Minna and the moon, put 
it which way you will, were secured. 

When the Professor arrived at Dorpat with his 
wife, the students gave him an ovation after the Ger- 
man style, that is to say, they organized a Fackel-zug, 
or torch-light procession. 

Three hundred young men, some wearing white 
caps, some green caps, some red, and some purple, 
marched along the street headed by a band, bearing 
.torches of twisted tow steeped in tar, blazing and 
smoking, or, to be more exact, smoking and blazing. 
Each corps was followed by a hired droschky, in 
which sat the captain and stewards of the white, red, 
green, or purple corps, with sashes of their respective 
colours. Behind the last corps followed the elephants, 
two and two. By elephants is not meant the greatest 
of quadrupeds, but the smallest esteemed of the 
students, those who belong to no corps. 

The whole procession gathered before the house of 
the Professor, and brandished their torches and 
cheered. Then the glass door opening on the balcony 
was thrown back, and the Professor John Henry 
Maedler appeared on the balcony leading forth his 
wife. The astronomer looked younger than he had 
been known to look for the last twenty years. His 
whiskers in the torchlight looked not grey, but red. 
The eyes, no longer blear with star-gazing, watered 



A WAX-AND-HONEY-MOON. 255 

with sentiment. His expression was no longer that 
of a man troubled with integral calculus, but of a man 
in an ecstasy. He waved his hand. Instantly the 
cheers subsided. " My highly-worthy-and-ever-to-be- 
honoured sirs," began the Professor, " this is a moment 
never to be forgotten. It sends a fackel-zug of fiery 
emotion through every artery and vein. Highly- 
worthy-and-ever-to-be-honoured sirs, I am not so 
proud as to suppose that this reception is accorded to 
me alone. It is an ovation offered to my highly- 
beloved -and -evermore -to-be-beloved -and -respected 
consort, Frau Minna Maedler, born Witte, the 
daughter of a distinguished lady, who, like myself, 
has laboured on Selenography, and loved Selenology. 
Highly-worthy-and-ever-to-be-respected sirs, when I 
announce to you that I have returned to Dorpat to 
endow that most-eminent-and-ever-to-become-more- 
eminent-University with one of the most priceless 
treasures of art the world has ever seen, a monument 
of infinite patience and exact observation ; I mean a 
wax moon ; I am sure I need only allude to the fact 
to elicit your unbounded enthusiasm. But, highly- 
worthy-and-ever-to-be-honoured sirs, allow me to 
assure you that my expedition to Hanover has not 
resulted in a gain to the highly eminent University of 
Dorpat only, but to me, individually as well. 

" That highly-eminent-and-evermore-to-become- 
more-eminent University is now enriched through my 
agency with a moon of wax, but I — I, sirs — excuse 
my emotion, I have also been enriched with a moon, 
not of wax, but of honey. The wax moon, gentlemen, 
may it last undissolved as long as the very-eminent- 



256 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

and-evcrmore-to-become-more-eminent University of 
Dorpat lasts. The honey moon, gentlemen, with 
which I have been blessed, I feel assured will expand 
into a lifetime, at least will last also undissolved as- 
long as Minna and I exist." 



ftbe iBlectrm's plot 

The Elector Frederick Christian of Saxony reigned 
only a few weeks, from October 5th to December 13, 
1763 ; in his forty-first year he died of small-pox. He 
never had enjoyed rude health. The mother of the 
unfortunate prince, Marie Josepha of Austria, was an 
exceedingly ugly, but prolific lady, vastly proud of 
her Hapsburg descent. The three first children 
followed each other with considerable punctuality, 
but the two first, both sons, died early. Frederick 
Christian was the third. (The Electress, a few months 
before his birth, was hunting, when a deer that had been 
struck, turned to her, dragging its broken legs behind 
it. This produced a powerful impression on her 
mind ; and when her son was born, he was found to 
be a cripple in his legs. His head and arms were well 
formed, but his spine was twisted, and his knees, 
according to the English ambassador, Sir Charles 
Williams — were drawn up over his stomach. He 
could not stand, and had to be lifted about from 
place to place. At the age of five-and-twenty he had 
been married to Maria Antonia, daughter of the 
Elector of Bavaria, afterwards the Emperor Charles 
VII. 

His brother, Francis Xavier, was a sturdy fellow, 
like his father, and the Electress mother tried very 
hard to get Frederick Christian to resign his preten- 



258 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

tions in favour of his brother, and take holy orders. 
This he refused to do, and was then married to Maria 
Antonia, aged twenty-three. Her mother had also 
been an Austrian princess, Amalia, and also remark- 
able for her ugliness. The choice was not happy, it 
brought about a marriage between cousins, and an 
union of blood that was afflicted with ugliness and 
infirmity of body. 

Maria Antonia had not only inherited her mother's 
ugliness, but was further disfigured with small-pox. 
She was small of stature, but of a resolute will, and of 
unbounded ambition. English tourists liked her, 
they said that she laid herself out to make the Court 
of Dresden agreeable to them. Wraxall tells a good 
story of her, which shows a certain frankness, not to 
say coarseness in her conversation — a story we will 
not reproduce. 

She had already made her personality felt at the 
Bavarian Court. Shortly after the death of her 
father, in imitation of Louisa Dorothea, Duchess of 
Gotha, she had founded an " Order of Friendship, or the 
Society of the Incas." The founding of the Order took 
place one fine spring day on a gondola in the canal at 
Nymphenburg. Her brother, the Elector of Bavaria, 
was instituted a member, the Prince of Ftirstenberg 
was made chancellor, and was given the custody of 
the seal of the confraternity which had as its legend 
" La fidelity mene." The badge of the Order was a 
gold ring on the little finger of the left hand, with the 
inscription, " L'ordre de l'amitie — Maria Antonia." 
Each member went by a name descriptive of his 
character, or of that virtue he or she was supposed to 



THE ELECTRESS'S PLOT. 259 

represent. Thus the chancellor was called " Le 
Solide." 

Sir Charles Williams says that on the very first 
night of her appearance in Dresden she made an 
attempt to force herself into a position for which she 
had no right ; to the great annoyance of the King of 
Poland (Augustus, Elector of Saxony). 

At Dresden, she favoured the arts, especially music 
and painting. She became the patroness of the 
family Mengs. She sang, and played on the piano, 
and indeed composed a couple of operas, " Thalestris " 
and "II trionfo della fidelita," and the former was 
actually put on the stage. Sir Charles Williams in 
1747 wrote that, in spite of her profession that in her 
eyes no woman ought to meddle in the affairs of state, 
he ventured to prophecy, she would rule the whole 
land in the name of her unfortunate husband. 

Nor was he wrong. The moment that her father- 
in-law died, she put her hand on the reins. She was 
not likely to meet with resistance from her husband, 
he was not merely a cripple in body, but was con- 
tracted in his intellect ; he was amiable, but weak and 
ignorant. Sir Charles Williams says that he once 
asked at table whether it was not possible to reach 
England by land — although it was an island. 

Frederick Christian began to reign on 5th October 
1763, and immediately orders were given for the in- 
crease of the army to 50,000 men. Maria Antonia 
was bent on becoming a queen, and for this end she 
must get her husband proclaimed like his father, 
King of Poland. She was allied to all the Courts of 
Europe, her agreeable manners, her energy, gained 



26o HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

her friends in all quarters. She felt herself quite 
capable of wearing a royal crown, and she wrote to all 
the courts to urge the claims of her husband, the 
Elector, when — the unfortunate cripple was attacked 
by small-pox, had a stroke, and died December 17th. 
Small-pox had carried off his ancestor John George 
IV., and in that same century it occasioned the death 
of his brother-in-law, Max Joseph of Bavaria, and of 
the Emperor Joseph I. 

He left behind him four sons, his successor, Frede- 
rick Augustus, and the three other princes, Charles, 
his mother's favourite, Anthony, and Maximilian 
Joseph, the third of whom died the same year as his 
father. He had also two daughters. 

The death of her husband was a severe blow to the 
ambition of the Electress ; her eldest son, Frederick 
Augustus, was under age, and the reins of govern- 
ment were snatched from her hands and put into those 
of the uncle of the young Elector, Xavier, who had 
been his mother's favourite, and in favour of whom 
his elder brother had been urged to resign his pre- 
tensions. Xavier was appointed administrator of 
Saxony, and acted as such for five years. 

When, at the age of eighteen, Frederick Augustus 
III. assumed the power, he endeavoured to fulfil his 
duties with great diligence and conscientiousness, and 
allowed of no interference. He had, indeed, his ad- 
visers, but these were men whom he selected for him- 
self from among those who had been well tried and 
who had proved themselves trusty. 

The Electress-mother had, during the administration 
of Prince Xavier, exercised some little authority ; she 



THE ELECTRESS'S PLOT. 261 

now suddenly found herself deprived of every shred. 
Her son was too firm and self-determined to admit of 
her interference. Moody and dissatisfied, she left Dres- 
den and went to Potsdam to Frederick II., in 1769, 
apparently to feel the way towards the execution 
of a plan that was already forming in her restless 
brain. She does not seem to have met with any 
encouragement, and she then started for Italy, where 
she visited Rome in 1772, and sought Mengs out, 
whose artistic talents had been fostered under her 
care. 

Under the administration of Prince Xavier, the 
Electress Dowager had received an income of sixty 
thousand dollars ; after her son had mounted the 
throne, her appanage was doubled, more than doubled, 
for she was granted 130,000 dollars, and in addition 
her son gave her a present of 500,000 dollars. This 
did not satisfy her, for she had no notion of cutting 
her coat according to her cloth, she would everywhere 
maintain a splendid court. Moreover, she was bitten 
with the fever of speculation. The year before her 
son came of age and assumed the power, she had 
erected a great cotton factory at Grossenhain, but as 
it brought her in no revenue, and cost her money 
besides, she was glad to dispose of it in 1774. The 
visitor to Dresden almost certainly knows the Bava- 
rian tavern at the end of the bridge leading into 
Little Dresden, i It is a tavern now mediaevalised, 
with panelled waits, bull's eye glass in the windows, 
old German glass and pottery — even an old German 
kalendar hanging from the walls, and with a couple 
of pretty Bavarian Kellnerins in costume, to wait on 



262 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

the visitor. There also in the evening Bavarian 
minstrels jodel, and play the(zither. 

This Bavarian tavern was established by the Elec- 
tress Mother, who thought that the Saxons did not 
drink good or enough beer, and must be supplied 
with that brewed in her native land. 

But this speculation also failed, and her capital of 
five hundred thousand dollars was swallowed up to 
the last farthing, and to meet her creditors she was 
obliged to pawn her diamond necklace and the rest 
of her jewels. This happened in Genoa. When her 
allowance came in again she redeemed her jewelry, 
but in 1775 had to pawn it again in Rome. Unable 
to pay her debts, and in distress for money, she 
appealed repeatedly, but in vain, to her son. 

Frederick Augustus was, like his father, of feeble 
constitution, and moreover, as he himself complained 
later on in life, had been at once spoiled and neglected 
in his youth ; and he was unable through weakness 
to ascend a height. He did not walk or ride, but 
went about in a carriage. The January (1769) after 
he came to the Electoral crown, he married Amelia 
Augusta of Zweibriicken, sister of Max Joseph, after- 
wards first King of Bavaria. She was only seventeen 
at the time. 

The favourite son of his mother was Charles. This 
prince had been hearty and in full possession of his 
limbs in his early age, but when he reached the years 
of eleven or twelve, he became crippled and doubled 
up like his father. Wraxal says that beside him 
^Scarron would have passed as a beauty. He was so 
Feeble and paralysed that he could only be moved 



THE ELECTRESS' S PLOT. 263 

about on a wheeled chair. He died in 178 1. His 
elder brother, the Elector, though not a vigorous man, 
was not a cripple. 

One of the attendant gentry on the Electress 
Mother, in Rome, was the Marquis Aloysius Peter 
d'Agdolo, son of the Saxon Consul in Venice, Colonel 
of the Lifeguard, and Adjutant General to Prince 
Xavier whilst he was Administrator. 

Agdolo advised the Electress Mother to raise 
money to meet her difficulties by selling to her son, 
the Elector, her claims on the Bavarian inheritance. 
Her brother, Maximilian Joseph, was without chil- 
dren ; and the nearest male claimant to the Electoral 
Crown of Bavaria was the Count Palatine of Sulz- 
bach, only remotely connected. It was, therefore, . 
quite possible that Bavaria might fall to a sister. 
Now on the death of her brother, the Dowager Elec- 
tress of Saxony certainly intended to advance her 
claims against any remote kinsman hailing through a 
common ancestor two centuries ago. But whether 
she would be able to enforce her claim was another 
matter. She might sell it to her son, who would 
have the means of advancing his claim by force of arms 
and gold. This was in 1776. Maria Antonia was de- 
lighted with the scheme and at once hastened to Mu- 
nich to put it in execution, taking with her all her dia- 
monds which she had managed to redeem from pawn. 

Whilst she was on her way to Munich, Agdolo 
was despatched to Dresden, to open the negociation 
with her son, not only for the transference of her 
rights on Bavaria, but also for the pawning of her 
diamonds, to her son. 



264 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

She had urgent need of money, and in her extremity- 
she conceived an audacious scheme to enable her at 
the same time to get hold of the money, and to retain 
her rights on Bavaria. The plan was this: — As soon as 
she had got the full payment from the Elector for the 
resignation of her claims in his favour, she had re- 
solved suddenly to proclaim to the world that he was 
no son at all of the late Elector Frederick Christian — 
that he was a bastard, smuggled into the palace and 
passed off as the son of the Elector, much as, accord- 
ing to Whig gossip, James the Pretender was smuggled 
into the palace of James II. in a warming pan, and 
passed off as of blood royal, when he was of base 
origin. 

Frederick Augustus thus declared to be no son of 
the House of Saxony, the Electoral crown would 
come to her favourite son Charles, who was a cripple. 
The Elector was not deformed — evidence against his 
origin ; Charles was doubled up and distorted — he 
was certainly the true son of the late Elector, and the 
legitimate successor. 

If Maria Antonia should succeed — she would rule 
Saxony in the name, and over the head of her un- 
fortunate son Charles, and her rights on Bavaria 
would not have been lost or made away with. 

Arrived in Munich, she confided the whole plan to 
her ladies-in-waiting. She told them her hopes, her 
confidence in Agdolo, who was gone to Dresden to 
negociate the sale, and who was thoroughly aware of 
her intentions. 

Agdolo, as all the ladies knew, was a great rascal. 
He had been pensioned by Prince Xavier with six 



THE ELECTRESS' S PLOT. 265. 

hundred dollars per annum, and he had what he re- 
ceived from the Electress Mother as her gentleman- 
in-waiting. He was married to the Princess Lubo- 
mirska, widow of Count Rutowska, had quarrelled 
with her, and they lived separate, but he had no 
scruple to receive of an insulted wife an annual allow- 
ance. All these sources of income were insufficient 
to meet his expenses ; and no one who knew him 
doubted for a moment that he would lend himself to 
any intrigue which would promise him wealth and 
position. The plot of the Dowager Electress was a 
risky one — but, should it succeed, his fortune was 
assured. 

At Dresden he was well received by the Elector ; 
and Frederick Augustus at once accepted the pro- 
position of his mother. He consented to purchase 
Maria Antonia's resignation in his favour of her 
claims on the allodial inheritance of the family on 
the extinction of the Bavarian Electoral house in the 
male line, and to pay all her debts, and to find a sum 
sufficient to redeem the diamonds, which were repre- 
sented as still in pawn at Rome. 

Maria Antonia and her confidant appeared to be on 
the eve of success, when the plan was upset, from a quar- 
ter in which they had not dreamed of danger. Among 
the ladies of the court of the Dowager Electress was 
one whose name does not transpire, who seems to 
have entertained an ardent passion for Agdolo. He, 
however, disregarded her, and paid his attentions to 
another of the ladies. Rage and jealousy consumed 
the heart of this slighted beauty, and when the 
Electress Mother confided to her the plan she had 



266 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

formed, the lady-in-waiting saw that her opportunity 
had arrived for the destruction of the man who had 
slighted her charms. She managed to get hold of 
her mistress' keys and to make a transcript of her 
papers, wherein the whole plan was detailed, also of 
copies of her letters to Agdolo, and of the Marquis's 
letters to her. When she had these, she at once des- 
patched them — not to the Elector of Saxony, but to 
Frederick II. at Berlin, who stood in close relations 
of friendship with the Elector of Saxony. She had 
reckoned aright. Such tidings, received through the 
Court of Prussia, would produce a far deeper impres- 
sion on Frederick Augustus, than if received from her 
• unknown and insignificant self. It is possible also 
that she may have known of her mistress having 
been at Berlin and there thrown out hints of some- 
thing of the sort, so that Frederick II. would at once 
recognise in this matured plan the outcome of the 
vague hints of mischief poured out at Potsdam a few 
years before. 

All was going on well at Berlin. Adolphus von 
Zehmen, Electoral Treasurer, had already started for 
Munich, furnished with the requisite sums. He was 
empowered to receive the deed of relinquishment 
from the Dowager Electress, and also her diamond 
necklace, which, in the meantime, was to be brought 
by a special courier from Rome. Maria Antonia, on 
her side, had constituted Councillor Hewald her 
plenipotentiary ; she wrote to say that he would 
transact all the requisite negociation with the Treasurer 
Zehmen, and that the diamond necklace had arrived 
and was in his hands. 



THE ELECTRESS'S PLOT. 267 

Agdolo received orders from the Electress Mother 
on no account to leave Dresden till the middle of 
September, 1776, lest his departure should arouse 
suspicion. 

The conduct of the Marquis was not in any way 
remarkable, he moved about among old friends with 
perfect openness, often appeared in Court, and was 
satisfied that he was perfectly safe. He was not in 
the least aware that all his proceedings were watched 
and reported on, not by order of the Elector, but of 
his own mistress, who received regular reports from 
this emissary as to the behaviour and proceedings of 
the Marquis, so that she was able to compare with 
this private report that sent her by Agdolo, and 
so satisfy herself whether he was acting in her 
interest, or playing a double game. 

This bit of cunning on her part, was not surprising, 
considering what a man Agdolo was, and, as we shall 
see, it proved of great advantage to her, but in a way 
she least expected. 

The Marchese d'Agdolo had paid his farewell visit 
to the Elector, and received leave to depart. Frede- 
rick Augustus had not the remotest suspicion that his 
mother was playing a crooked part, and he seemed 
heartily satisfied with the negociation, and made the 
Marquis a present. 

On September 15, 1776, Agdolo was intending to 
start from Dresden, on his return to Munich, and the 
■evening before leaving he spent at the house of a friend, 
Ferber, playing cards. Little did he suspect that whilst 
he was winning one stake after another at the table, 
the greatest stake of all was lost. That evening, 



268 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

whilst he was playing cards, a courier arrived from 
Berlin, in all haste, and demanded to see the Elector 
in person, instantly, as he had a communication of 
the utmost importance to make from Frederick II. 
He was admitted without delay, and the whole of his 
mother's plot was detailed before the astonished 
Elector. 

"The originals of these transcripts," said the courier,. 
" are in the hands of the Marchese d'Agdoio, let him 
be arrested, and a comparison of the documents 
made." 

The Privy Council was at once assembled, and the 
papers received from Frederick II. were laid before it. 
The members voted unanimously that the Marquis 
should be arrested, and General Schiebell was en- 
trusted with the execution of the decree. No surprise 
was occasioned by the entry of General Schiebell 
into the house of Ferber. It was a place of resort of 
the best society in Dresden ; but when the General 
announced that he had come to make an arrest, many 
cheeks lost their colour. 

£Jn the name of his Serene Highness the Elector," 
said the General, " I make this man my prisoner," 
and he laid his hand on the shoulder of Agdolo, who- 
had served under him in the Seven Years' War. He 
was taken at once to his own lodgings, where his 
desks and boxes — already packed for departure — 
were opened, and all his papers removed. The same 
night, under a strong guard, he was transported at io 
o'clock, to Konigstein. In that strong fortress and state 
prison, perched on an isolated limestone crag, the- 
rest of his life was to be spent in confinement. 



THE ELECTRESS'S PLOT. 269 

But the Marchese, like a crafty Italian, had made 
his preparations against something of the sort ; for 
among his papers was found a communication ad- 
dressed by him to the Elector, revealing the whole 
plot. It was undated. If the search of his rooms 
and the discovery of his papers had been made earlier, 
the Elector might have believed that the man had 
really intended to betray his mistress, but, he had 
postponed the delivery of the communication too late. 1 

A few days later, the Marchese received a sealed 
letter from the Elector ; and he was treated in his 
prison without undue severity ; his pension was not 
withdrawn ; and the Elector seems never to have 
quite made up his mind whether Agdolo really in- 
tended to make him aware of the plot at the last 
minute, or to go on with the plan after his mistress's 
orders. 

j After some years, when Agdolo began to suffer in 
his chest, he was allowed to go to the baths of Pirna, 
under a guard. His wife never visited him in prison. 
She died, however, only two years later, in 1778, at 
the age of fifty-six. Agdolo lived on for twenty- 
three years and a half, and died August 27, 1800. 
All his papers were then sent to Frederick Augustus 
III., who read them, dissolved into tears, and burnt 
them. 

We must return for a moment to Munich. No 
sooner had the emissary of the Electress Mother 
heard of the news of the arrest of Agdolo, than he 
hastened to Munich with post horses as hard as he 

1 This is supposed to have been the contents of the packet 
addressed to the Elector, the contents have never been revealed. 



270 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

could fly over the roads. Maria Antonia, when she 
heard the news, at once made fresh dispositions. She 
sent word that same night to Hewald to make off, 
and in another half hour he had disappeared with the 
diamonds. 

Next day the completion of the resignation of 
claims was to be made. The Electress Mother re- 
quested the Treasurer Zehmen to go to the dwelling 
of her Councillor Hewald, who, as we can understand, 
was not to be found anywhere. Herr von Zehmen 
was much surprised and disconcerted, and the Dowager 
Electress affected extreme indignation and distress, 
charging her plenipotentiary with having robbed her 
of her diamonds, and bolted with them. Then she 
took to her bed, and pretended to be dangerously ill. 
Next day the news reached Zehmen of what had 
occurred at Dresden, and with the news came his 
recall. She saw the treasurer before his departure, 
and implored him to get both Agdolo and Hewald 
arrested and punished, because, as she declared, they 
had between them fabricated a wicked plot for her 
robbery and ruin. 

Hewald went to Frankfort with the jewels, where 
he was stopped and taken by an officer of Frederick 
Augustus, and brought on Jan. 27, 1777, to Dresden. 
He was sent to the Konigstein, but was released in 
1778. 

In 1777 died the Elector of Bavaria, but his sister 
was unable to obtain any recognition of her claims \ 
and she died 23rd April, 1780, without any reconcili- 
ation with the eldest son. Next year died her fav- 
ourite son, the cripple, Charles. 



Suess ©ppenbeim. 

On December the sixteenth, 1733, Charles Alexander, 
Duke of Wiirtemberg, entered Stuttgart in state. Itwas 
a brilliant though brief winter day. The sun streamed 
out of a cloudless heaven on the snowy roofs of the old 
town, and the castle park trees frosted as though 
covered with jewels. The streets were hung with 
tapestries, crimson drapery, and wreaths of artificial 
flowers. Peasants in their quaint costume poured in 
from all the country round to salute their new prince. 
From the old castle towers floated the banners of the 
Duchy and the Empire — for Wiirtemberg three stag- 
horns quartered with the Hohenstauffen black lions. 
The Duke was not young : he was hard on fifty — an 
age when a man has got the better of youthful im- 
petuosity and regrets early indiscretions — an age at 
which, if a man has stuff in him, he is at his best. 

(The land of Wiirtemberg is a favoured and smiling 
land. At the period of which we write, it was not so 
ample as the present kingdom, but fruitful, favoured, 
and called the Garden of the Empire. For twenty 
years this Duchy had been badly governed ; the in- 
habitants had been cruelly oppressed by the incom- 
petent Duke Eberhardt Ludwig, or rather by his 
favourites. The country was burdened with debt ; the 
treasury was exhausted. It had, as it were, lain under 
winter frost for twenty years and more, and now though 



2j2 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

on a winter day laughed and bloomed with a promise of 
spring. 

And every good Wiirtemberger had a right to be 
glad and proud of the new duke, who had stormed Bel- 
grade under Prince Eugene, and was held to be one of 
the bravest, noblest minded, and most generous of 
the German princes of his time. 

(As he rode through the streets of Stuttgart all ad- 
mired his stately form, his rich fair hair flowing over his 
shoulders, his bright commanding eye, and the pleasant 
smile on his lip ; every Wiirtemberger waved his hat, 
and shouted, and leaped with enthusiasm. Now at 
last the Garden of Germany would blossom and be 
fruitful under so noble a duke. 

(But in the same procession walked, not rode, 
another man whom none regarded — a handsome man 
with dark brown hair and keen olive eyes, a sallow 
complexion, and a finely moulded Greek nose. He 
had a broad forehead and well arched brows. He was 
tall, and had something noble and commanding in his 
person and manner. But his most remarkable feature 
was the eye — bright, eager, ever restless. 

This man, whom the Wiirtembergers did not observe, 
was destined to play a terrible and tragic part in their 
history — to be the evil genius of the duke and of the 
land. His name was Joseph Suess Oppenheim. 

Joseph's mother, Michaela, a Jewess, had been a 
woman of extraordinary beauty, the only child of the 
Rabbi Salomon of Frankfort. She had been married 
when quite young to the Rabbi Isachar Suess Oppen- 
heim, a singer. Joseph was born at Heidelberg in 
1692, and was her child by the Baron George of 



SUESS OPPENHEIM. 273 

Heydersdorf, a soldier who had distinguished himself 
in the Turkish war, and with whom she carried on a 
guilty intrigue. From his father Joseph Suess derived 
a dignified, almost military bearing, and his personal 
beauty from his mother. 

The Baron's romance with the lovely Jewess came 
to an end in 1693, when he held the castle of Heidel- 
berg against the French. He surrendered after a 
gallant defence; too soon, however, as the court-martial 
held on him decided ; and he was sentenced to death, 
but was pardoned by the Emperor Leopold, with the 
loss of all his honours and offices, and he was banished 
the Empire. 

vSuess had a sister who married a rich Jew of 
Vienna, but followed her mother in laxity of morals, 
and, after having wasted a good fortune in extrava- 
gance, fell back on her mother and brother for a 
maintenance. He had a brother who became a factor 
at the court of Darmstadt. They lived on bad terms 
with each other, and were engaged in repeated law- 
suits with one another. This brother abjured Judaism, 
was baptised, and assumed the name of Tauffenberg. 
Joseph Suess was connected, or nominally connected, 
through Isachar, his reputed though not his real father, 
with the great and wealthy Jewish family of Oppen- 
heim. The branch established in Vienna had become 
rich on contracts for the army, and had been ennobled. 
One member failed because the Emperor Leopold I. 
owed him many millions of dollars and was unable to 
pay. Joseph began life in the office of the court 
bankers and army contractors of his family at Vienna. 

Here it was that he obtained his first ideas of how 

s 



274 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

money could beraised through lotteries, monopolies,and 
imposts of all kinds. But though Joseph was put on 
the road that led to wealth, in the Oppenheim house 
at Vienna, he missed his chance there, and was dis- 
missed for some misconduct or other, the particulars 
of which we do not know. 

Then, in disgrace and distress, he came to Bavaria, 
where he served a while as barber's assistant. Pro- 
bably through the influence of some of the Oppen- 
heims, Joseph was introduced into the court of the 
family of Thurn and Taxis, which had acquired vast 
wealth through the monopolyof the post-office. Thence 
he made his way into an office of the palatine court at 
Mannheim. 

This was a period in which the German princes 
were possessed with the passion of imitating the splen- 
dour and extravagance of Louis XIV. Everyone 
must have his Versailles, must crowd his court with 
functionaries, and maintain armies in glittering and 
showy uniforms. 

\ Germany, to the present day, abounds in vast and 
magnificent palaces, for the most part in wretched 
repair, if not ruinous. The houses of our English 
nobility are nothing as compared in size with these 
palaces of petty princes, counts, and barons. 
\To build these mansions, and when built to fill them 
with officials and servants, to keep up their armies, 
and to satisfy the greed of their mistresses, these 
German princes needed a good deal of money, and 
were ready to show favour to any man who could 
help them to obtain it — show where to bore to tap 
fresh financial springs. All kinds of new methods of 



SUESS OPPENHEIM. 275 

taxation were had recourse to, arousing the bitter 
mockery of the oppressed. The tobacco monopoly- 
was called the nose-tax ; it was felt to be oppressive 
only by the snuff-takers and smokers ; and perhaps 
the stamp on paper only by those who wrote ; but 
the boot and shoe stamp imposed by one of the little 
princes touched everyone but those who went bare- 
foot. 

\ Joseph Suess introduced the stamp on paper into 
the palatinate. He did not invent this duty, which had 
been imposed elsewhere ; but he obtained the con- 
cession of the impost, and sold it to a subfactor for 
12,000 florins, and with the money invested in a 
speculation in the coinage of Hesse-Darmstadt. All 
the little German princes at this time had their own 
coinage, down to trumpery little states of a few miles 
in diameter, as Waldeck, Fulda, Hechingen, and 
Montfort ; and Germany was full to overflow of bad 
money, and barren of gold and silver. Suess, in his 
peregrinations ; had obtained a thorough insight into 
the mysteries of this branch of business. He not only 
thoroughly understood the practical part of the matter 
— the coinage — but also where the cheapest markets 
were, in which to purchase the metals to be coined. 
Now that he had some money at his command, he 
undertook to farm the coinage of Hesse-Darmstadt ; 
but almost immediately undersold it, with a profit to 
himself of 9000 florins. He took other contracts for 
the courts, and soon realised a comfortable fortune. 
Even the Archbishop of Cologne called in his aid, 
and contributed to enrich him, in his efforts to get a 
little more for himself out of the subjects of his pala- 



276 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

tinatc. In the summer of 1732 Joseph Suess visited 
the Blackforest baths of Wildbad, for the sake of the 
waters. At the same time Charles Alexander of 
Wurtemberg and his wife were also undergoing the 
same cure. Oppenheim's pleasant manners, his hand- 
some face, and his cleverness caught the fancy of 
Charles Alexander, and he appointed him his agent 
and steward ; and as the Prince was then in want of 
money, Suess lent him a trifle of 2,000 florins. 
Charles Alexander had not at this time any assurance 
that he would ascend the ducal throne of Wtirtemberg, 
though it was probable. 1 The reigning Duke, 
Eberhardt Louis, had, indeed, just lost his only son ; 
but it was not impossible that a posthumous grand- 
son might be born. Charles Alexander was first- 
cousin of the Duke. It is said that Suess on this 
occasion foretold the future greatness of the Prince, 
and pretended to extract his prophecy from the Cabala 
It is certain that Charles Alexander was very super- 
stitious, and believed in astrology, and it is by no means 
improbable that Suess practised on his credulity. He 
had at his disposal plenty of means of learning whether 
the young Princess of Wurtemberg was likely soon to 
become a mother — her husband had died in November 
— and he was very well aware that the old Duke was 
failing. The loan made by Suess came acceptably 
to Prince Charles Alexander just as a Jewish banker, 
Isaac Simon of Landau, with whom he had hitherto 
dealt, had declined to make further advances. 

When the Prince returned to Belgrade, where he 
resided as stadtholder of Servia, under the Emperor, 

1 There was some idea of a younger brother being elected. 



SC7ESS OPPENHEIM. 277 

he was fully convinced that he had discovered in 
Suess an able, intelligent, and devoted servant. His 
wife was a princess of Thurn and Taxis, and it is 
possible that Suess, who had been for some time about 
that court at Ratisbon, had used her influence, and 
his acquaintance with her family affairs, to push his 
interests with the Prince, her husband. 
vOn October 31, 1733, died the old Duke Eberhardt 
Louis, and Charles Alexander at once hastened from 
Belgrade to Vienna, where, in an interview with the 
Emperor, without any consultation with the Estates, 
or consideration for the treasury of Wurtemberg, he 
promised Leopold a contingent of 12,000 men to aid 
in the war against France. Then he went on to 
Stuttgart. 

\ Poor Wurtemberg groaned under the burdens that 
had been imposed on it ; the favourites had been 
allowed to do with it what they liked ; and Charles 
Alexander's first public declaration on entering his 
capital was : " From henceforth I will reign over you 
immediately, and myself see to the reform of every 
grievance, and put away from my people every burden 
which has galled its shoulders. If my people cry to 
me, my ears shall be open to hear their call. I will 
not endure the disorder which has penetrated every- 
where, into every department of the State ; my own 
hand shall sweep it away." 

And as a token of his sincerity he ordered every 
office-holder in Church and State to put on paper and 
present to hirn a schedule of every payment that had 
been made, by way of fee and bribe, to obtain his 
office. This was published on December 28, 1733. 



278 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

The older and wiser heads were shaken ; the Duke, 
they said, was only heaping trouble on his shoulders ; 
let the past be buried. He replied, " I must get to 
the bottom of all this iniquity. I must get inured to 

. 

\ But the hero of Belgrade had all his life been more 
accustomed to the saddle than the desk, and to com- 
mand in battle — a much simpler matter — than to 
rule in peace. The amount of grievances brought 
before him, the innumerable scandals, peculations, 
bewildered him. The people were wild with enthus- 
iasm, but the entire bureaucracy was filled with sullen 
and dogged opposition. 
N Wurtemberg enjoyed a constitution more liberal 
than any other German principality. The old Duke 
Eberhardt with the Beard, who died in 1496, by his 
will contrived for the good government of his land by 
providing checks against despotic rule by the dukes 
his successors. On the strength of this testament 
the Estates deposed his successor. The provisions 
of this will were ratified in the Capitulation of 
Tubingen, in 15 14, and every duke on assuming the 
reins of government was required to swear to observe 
the capitulation. Duke Charles Alexander took the 
oath without perhaps very closely examining it, and 
found out after it was taken that he was hampered in 
various ways, and was incapacitated from raising the 
body of men with which he had undertaken to furnish 
the Emperor, independent of the consent of the 
Parliament. It may here be said that there was no 
hereditary house of nobles in Wurtemberg ; the 
policy of the former dukes had been to drive the 



SUESS OPPENHEIM. 279 

hereditary petty nobles out of the country, and to 
create in their place a clique of court officials abso- 
lutely dependent on themselves. By the constitution, 
no standing army was to be maintained, and no 
troops raised without the consent of the Estates ; the 
tenure of property was guaranteed by the State, all serf- 
age was abolished, and no taxes could be imposed or 
monopolies created without the consent of the Estates. 
\ The Estates consisted of fourteen prelates, pastors 
invested with dignities which entitled them to sit in 
the House, and seventy deputies — some elected by 
the constituencies, others holders of certain offices, 
who sat ex officio. The Estates had great power ; in- 
deed the Duke could do little but ask its consent to 
the measures he proposed, and to swallow humble 
pie at refusal. It not only imposed the taxes, but the 
collectors were directly responsible to the Estates for 
what was collected, and paid into its hands the sum 
gathered. Moreover, any agreement entered into 
between the Duke and another prince was invalid 
unless ratified by the Estates. 

\ When Duke Charles Alexander, who had been ac- 
customed to the despotic command of an army as 
field-marshal, found how his hands were tied and how 
he was surrounded by impediments to free action on 
all sides, he was very angry, and quarrelled with the 
Ministers who had presented the capitulation to him 
for signature. He declared that the paper presented 
for him to sign had not been read to him in full, or 
had the obnoxious passages folded under that he 
should not see them, or that they had been added 
after his signature had been affixed. 



280 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

He became irritable, not knowing how to keep his 
promise with the Emperor, and disgusted to find 
himself a ruler without real authority. 

Now, as it was inconvenient to call the Assembly 
together on every occasion when something was 
wanted, a permanent committee sat in Stuttgart, con- 
sisting of two parts. This committee acted for the 
Estates and were responsible to it. 
•j Wanting advice and help, unwilling to seek that of 
the reliable Ministers — and there were some honest 
and patriotic — the Duke asked Joseph Suess to assist 
him, and Suess was only too delighted to show him a 
way out of his difficulties. The redress of grievances 
was thrust aside, abuses were left uncorrected, and 
the Duke's attention was turned towards two main 
objects — the establishment of a standing army, and 
the upsetting of the old constitution. 

Wtirtemberg was then a state whose limits were 
not very extensive, nor did they lie within a ring 
fence. The imperial cities of Reutlingen, Ulm, 
Heilsbronn, Weil, and Gmtind were free. It might 
not be convenient for the Emperor to pay with hard 
cash for the troops the Duke had promised to furnish, 
but he might allow of the incorporation of these 
independent and wealthy cities in the duchy. More- 
over, it was a feature of the times for the princes to 
seek to conquer fresh districts and incorporate them. 
France had recently snatched away Mompelgard 
from Wiirtemberg, and Charles Alexander recovered 
it. The duchy had suffered so severely from having 
been overrun by French troops that the Estates ac- 
quiesced, though reluctantly, in the Duke's proposal 



SC/£SS OPPENHEIM. 281 

that a standing army should be maintained. Having 
obtained this concession, Suess instructed him how 
to make it a means of acquiring money, by calling 
men to arms who would be thankful to purchase their 
discharge. The army soon numbered 18,000 soldiers. 
His general-in-chief was Remchingen, a man who 
had served with him in the Imperial army and was 
devoted to his interests. The Duke placed his army 
under officers who were none of them Wiirtembergers. 
At the head of an army officered by his own creatures, 
the Duke hoped to carry his next purpose — the 
abrogation of the capitulation, and the conversion of 
the State from a constitutional to a despotic monarchy. 
Suess now became the Duke's most confidential ad- 
viser, and, guided by him, Charles Alexander got rid 
of all his Ministers and courtiers who would not be- 
come the assistants in this policy, and filled their 
places with creatures of his own, chief of whom was 
a fellow named Hallwachs. In order to paralyse the 
Assembly the Duke did not summon it to meet, and 
managed to pack the committee with men in his in- 
terest ; for, curiously enough, the committee was not 
elected by the delegates, but itself elected into the 
vacancies created in it. By means of the committee 
the Duke imposed on the country in 1736 a double 
tax, and the grant of a thirtieth of all the fruits ; and 
this was to last " as long as the necessities of the 
case required it." 

X Suess himself was careful to keep in the back- 
ground. He accepted no office about court, became 
Minister of no branch of the State ; but every 
Minister and officer was nominated by him and de- 



282 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

voted to him. Towards these creatures of his own 
he behaved with rudeness and arrogance, so that they 
feared him almost more than the Duke. If the least 
opposition was manifested, Suess threatened the 
gallows or the block, forfeiture of goods, and banish- 
ment ; and as the Duke subscribed every order Suess 
brought him, it was well known that his threats were 
net idle. 

(Suess employed Weissensee, a pastor, the prelate of 
Hirsau, as his court spy. This worthless man brought 
to the favourite every whisper that passed within his 
hearing among the courtiers of the Duke, everything 
that was said in the committee, and advised whether 
the adhesion of this or that man was doubtful. 

* Suess so completely enveloped the Duke in the 
threads of the web he spun about him, that Charles 
Alexander followed his advice blindly, and did noth- 
ing without consulting him. 

In 1734 Suess farmed the coinage of Wiirtemberg, 
with great profit to himself, and, having got it into 
his own hands, kept it there to the end. But there is 
this to be said for his coinage, that it was far better 
than that of all the other states of Germany ; so that 
the Wiirtemberg silver was sought throughout 
Germany. There was nothing fraudulent in this 
transaction, and though at his trial the matter was 
closely investigated, no evidence of his having ex- 
ceeded what was just could be produced against him. 
\ It was quite another matter with the " Land Com- 
mission," a well-intentioned institution with which 
the Duke began his reign. Charles Alexander 
was overwhelmed with the evidence sent in to him of 



SUESS OPPENHEIM. 283 

bribery under the late Duke, and, unable to investigate 
the cases himself, he appointed commissioners to do so, 
and of course these commissioners were nominated by 
Suess. The commission not only examined into 
evidence of bribery in the purchase of offices, but also 
into peculation and neglect of duty in the discharge of 
offices. Those against whom evidence was strong 
were sentenced to pay a heavy fine, but were not neces- 
sarily deprived. Those, on the other hand, who had 
acquired their offices honourably and had discharged 
their functions conscientiously were harassed by 
repeated trials, terrified with threats, and were forced 
to purchase their discharge at a sum fixed according to 
an arbitrary tariff. Those who proved stubborn, or 
did not see at what the commissioners aimed, were 
subjected to false witnesses, found guilty, and fined. 
These fines amounted in some instances to £2,000. 
£ After the commission had exhausted the bureau- 
cracy, and money was still needed, private individuals 
became the prey of their inquisitorial and extortive 
action. 

|- Any citizen who was reported to be rich was 
summoned before the tribunal to give an account of 
the manner in which he had obtained his wealth ; his 
private affairs were investigated, his books examined, 
and his trial protracted till he was glad to purchase 
his dismissal for a sum calculated according to his in- 
come as revealed to the prying eyes of the inquisitors. 
\ But as this did not suffice to fill the empty treasury, 
recurrence was had to the old abuse which the Land 
Commission had been instituted to inquire into and 
correct. Every office was sold, and to increase the 



284 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

revenue from this source fresh offices were created, 
fresh titles invented, and all were sold for ready 
money. Every office in Church as well as State was 
bought ; indeed, a sort of auction was held at every 
vacancy, and the office was knocked down to the 
highest bidder. 

.This sort of commerce had been bad enough under 
the late Duke ; but it became fourfold as bad now 
under the redresser of abuses, for what had before 
been inchoate was now organised by Suess into a 
system. 

I Not only were the offices sold, but after they had 
been entered upon, the tenant was expected to pay a 
second sum, entitled the gratuity, which was to go, it 
was announced, towards a sustentation fund for 
widows and orphans and the aged. It is needless to 
say that none of this money ever reached widows, 
orphans, or aged. 

\ A special bureau of gratuities was organised by 
decree of the Duke, and filled with men appointed by 
Suess, who paid into his hands the sums received ; 
and he, after having sifted them, and retained what 
he thought fit, shook the rest into the ducal treasury. 
This bureau was founded by ducal rescript in 1736. 

\ Side by side with the Office of Gratuities came the 
Fiscal Office into being, whose function it was to re- 
vise the magisterial and judicial proceedings of the 
courts of justice. This also was filled by Suess with 
his creatures. The ground given to the world for its 
establishment was the correction of judicial errors 
and injustices committed by the courts of law. It 
was the final court of revision, before which every 



SUESS OPPENHEIM. 285 

decision went before it was carried into effect. Legal 
proceedings, moreover, were long and costly, and the 
Fiscal Court undertook to interfere when any suit 
threatened to be unduly protracted to the prejudice 
of justice. But the practical working of the Fiscal 
Court was something very different. It interfered 
with the course of justice, reversing judgments, not 
according to equity, but according to the bribes paid 
into the hands of the board. In a very short time 
the sources of justice were completely poisoned by it, 
and no crime, however great and however clearly 
established, led to chastisement if sufficient money 
were paid into the hands of the court of revision. 
The whole country was overrun with spies, who de- 
nounced as guilty of imaginary crimes those who were 
rich, and such never escaped without leaving some of 
their gold sticking to the hands of the fiscal counsellors. 
As usual with Joseph Suess, he endeavoured to 
keep officially clear of this court, as he had of the 
Office of Gratuities, and of all others. But the Duke 
nominated him assistant counsellor. Suess protested, 
and endeavoured to shirk the honour ; but as the 
Duke refused to release him, he took care never once 
to attend the court, and when the proceedings and 
judgments were sent him for his signature he always 
sent them back unsigned ; and he never was easy till 
relieved of the unacceptable title. For Suess was a 
clever rogue. In every transaction that was public, 
and of which documentary evidence was producible 
that he had been mixed up with it, he acted with in- 
tegrity ; but whenever he engaged on a proceeding 
which might render him liable to be tried in the event 



286 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

of his falling into disfavour, he kept himself in the 
background and acted through his agents ; so that 
when, eventually, he was tried for his treasonable and 
fraudulent conduct, documentary evidence incriminat- 
ing him was wholly wanting. 

\ After the death of the Duke, it was estimated from 
the records of the two courts that they had in the 
year 1736-7 squeezed sixty-five thousand pounds out 
of the small and poor duchy. 

Suess had constituted himself jeweller to the Duke, 
v who had a fancy for precious stones, but knew 
nothing of their relative values. When Suess offered 
him a jewel he was unable to resist the temptation of 
buying it, and very little of the money of the Bureau 
of Gratuities ever reached him; he took the value out 
in stones at Suess' estimation. When some of his in- 
timates ventured to suggest that the Jew was deceiv- 
ing him as to the worth of the stones, Duke Charles 
Alexander shrugged his shoulders and said with a 
laugh, " It may be so, but I can't do without that 
coujon " (cocilou)} 

\ At the beginning of 1736 a new edict for wards 
was issued by the Duke, probably on Suess' sugges- 
tion, whereby he constituted a chancery which 
should act as guardian to all orphans under age, 
managing their property for them, and was account- 
able to none but the Duke for the way in which it 
dealt with the trust. Then a commission was insti- 
tuted to take charge of all charitable bequests in the 
duchy ; and by this means Suess got the fingering of 

1 In three years Suess gained a profit of 20,000 florins out of 
the sale of jewellery alone. 



SUESS OPPENHEIM. 2S7 

property to the amount of two hundred thousand 
pounds, for which the State paid to the Charities at 
the rate of three per cent. 

\ Then came the imposition of duties and taxes. 
Salt was taxed, playing-cards, groceries, leather, to- 
bacco, carriages, even the sweeping of chimneys. A 
gazette was issued containing decrees of the Duke 
and official appointments, and every officer and 
holder of any place, however insignificant, under 
Government was compelled to subscribe to this weekly 
paper, the profits of which came to the Duke and his 
adviser. Then came a property and income tax ; 
then in quick succession one tormenting edict after 
another, irritating and disturbing the people, and all 
meaning one thing — money. 

v Lotteries were established by order of the Duke. 
Suess paid the Duke ^"300 for one, and pocketed the 
profits, which were considerable. At the court balls 
and masquerades Suess had his roulette tables in an 
adjoining room, and what fell to the croupier went into 
his pocket. 1 

I At last his sun declined. The Duke became more 
and more engrossed in his ideas of upsetting the con- 
stitution by means of his army, and listened more to 
his general, Remchingen, than to Suess. He entered 
into a compact with the elector of Bavaria and with 
the Bishops of Wtirzburg and Bamberg to send him 
troops to assist him in his great project, and, as a price 
for this assistance, promised to introduce the Roman 
Catholic religion into Wurtemberg. 

» 1 The Duke, at Suess's instigation, wrote to the Emperor to 
get the Jew factotum ennobled, but was refused. 



288 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

The enemies of Suess, finding that he was losing 
hold of the Duke, took advantage of a precious stone 
which the Jew had sold him for a thousand pounds, 
and which proved to be worth only four hundred, to 
open the eyes of Charles Alexander to the character 
of the man who had exercised such unbounded influ- 
ence over him. Suess, finding his power slipping 
from him, resolved to quit the country. The Duke 
stopped him. Suess offered five thousand pounds for 
permission to depart ; it was refused. Charles Alex- 
ander was aware that Suess knew too many court 
secrets to be allowed to quit the country. Moreover, 
the necessities of the Duke made him feel that he 
might still need the ingenuity of Suess to help him to 
raise money. As a means of retaining him he granted 
him a so-called " absolutorium " — a rescript which 
made him responsible to no one for any of his actions 
in the past or in the future. Fuirnished with this 
document, the Jew consented to remain, and then the 
Duke required of him a loan of four thousand pounds 
for the expenses of a journey he meditated to Danzig 
to consult a physician about a foot from which he 
suffered. The "absolutorium " was signed in February 

1737- 
^On March 12 following, Charles Alexander started 

on his journey from Stuttgart, but went no farther 

than his palace at Ludwigsburg. 

Although the utmost secrecy had been maintained, 

it had nevertheless transpired that the constitution 

was to be upset as soon as the Duke had left the 

country. He had given sealed orders to his general, 

Remchingen, to this effect. The Bavarian and Wiir- 



SUESS OPPENHEIM. 289 

temberg troops, to the number of 19,000 men, were al- 
ready on the march. The Wtirtemberg army was en- 
tirely officered by the Duke's own men. Orders had 
been issued to forbid the Stuttgart Civil Guard from ex- 
ercising and assembling, and ordering that a general 
disarmament of the Civil Guard and of the peasants and 
citizens should be enforced immediately the Duke had 
crossed the frontier. All the fortresses in the duchy 
had been provided with abundance of ammunition and 
ordnance. 

\ At Ludwigsburg the Duke halted to consult an 
astrologer as to the prospect of his undertaking. Suess 
laughed contemptuously at the pretences of this man, 
and, pointing to a cannon, said to Charles Alexander, 
" This is your best telescope." 

The sealed orders were to be opened on the 13th, 
and on that day the stroke was to be dealt. Already 
Ludwigsburg was full of Wtirzburg soldiers. A 
courier of the Duke with a letter had, in a drunken 
squabble, been deprived of the dispatch ; this was 
opened and shown to the Assembly, which assembled 
in all haste and alarm. It revealed the plot. At once 
some of the notables hastened to Ludwigsburg to have 
an interview with their prince. He received them 
roughly, and dismissed them without disavowing his 
intentions. The consternation became general. The 
day was storm)' ; clouds were whirled across the sky, 
then came a drift of hail, then a gleam of sun. At 
Ludwigsburg, the wind blew in whole ranges of 
windows, shivering the glass. The alarm-bells rang 
in the church towers, for fire had broken out in the 
village of Eglosheim. 



290 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

The Assembly sent another deputation to Ludwigs- 
burg, consisting of their oldest and most respected 
members. They did not arrive till late, and unable to 
obtain access through the front gates, crept round by 
the kitchen entrance, and presented themselves un- 
expectedly before the Duke at ten o'clock at night, as 
he was retiring to rest from a ball that had been given. 
Dancing was still going on in one of the wings, and 
the strains of music entered the chamber when the old 
notables of Wiirtemberg, men of venerable age and 
high character, forced their way into the Duke's 
presence. 

Charles Alexander had but just come away from 

the ball-room, seated himself in an arm-chair, and 
drunk a powerful medicine presented him by his 
chamberlain, Neuffer, in a silver bowl. Neuffer be- 
longed to a family which had long been influential in 
Wiirtemberg, honourable and patriotic. Scarce had 
the Duke swallowed this draught when the deputation 
appeared. He became livid with fury, and though 
the interview took place with closed doors the servants 
without heard a violent altercation, and the Duke's 
voice raised as if he were vehemently excited. Pre- 
sently the doors opened and the deputation came 
forth, greatly agitated, one of the old men in his hurry 
forgetting to take his cap away with him. Scarcely 
were they gone when Neuffer dismissed the servants, 
and himself went to a further wing of the palace. 

_ The Duke, still excited, suddenly felt himself unwell, 
ran into the antechamber, found no one there, stag- 
gered into a third, then a fourth room, tore open a 
window, and shouted into the great court for help ; but 



SC/JSSS OPPENHEIM. 291 

his voice was drowned by the band in the illumined 
ball-room, playing a valse. Then giddiness came over 
the Duke, and he fell to the ground. The first to 
arrive was Neuffer, and he found him insensible. He 
drew his knife and lanced him. Blood flowed. The 
Duke opened his eyes and gasped, " What is the 
matter with me ? I am dying ! " He was placed in 
an armchair, and died instantly. 
,** , That night not a window in Stuttgart had shown 
light. The town was as a city of the dead. Every- 
one was in alarm as to what would ensue on the 
morrow, but in secret arms were being distributed 
among the citizens and guilds. They would fight for 
their constitution. Suddenly, at midnight, the news 
spread that the Duke was dead. At once the streets, 
were full of people, laughing, shouting, throwing them-, 
selves into each other's arms, and before another hour! 
the windows were illuminated with countless candles. 11 
/■> Not a moment was lost. Duke Charles Rudolf of 
Wtirtemberg-Neuenstadtwas invested with the regency, 
and on March 19, General Remchingen was arrested 
and deprived of his office. 

^ For once Suess' cleverness failed him. Relying on 
his " absolutorium," he did not fly the country the 
moment he heard of the death of the Duke. He 
waited till he could place his valuables in safety. 
He waited just too long, for he was arrested and con- 
fined to his house. Then he did manage to escape, 
and got the start of his enemies by an hour, but was re- 
cognised and stopped by a Wlirtemberg officer, and 
reconducted, to Stuttgart, where he was almost torn 
n x On the following night a confectioner set up a transparency 
exhibiting the Devil carrying off the Duke. 



292 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

to pieces by the infuriated populace, and with difficulty- 
rescued from their hands. On March 19, he was sent 
to the fortress of Hohenneuffen ; but thence he almost 
succeeded in effecting his escape by bribing the guards 
with the diamonds he had secreted about his person. 

At first Suess bore his imprisonment with dignity. 
He was confident, in the first place, that the " absolu- 
torium " would not be impeached, and in the second, 
that there was no documentary evidence discoverable 
which could incriminate him. But as his imprison- 
ment was protracted, and as he saw that the country 
demanded a victim for the wrongs it had suffered, his 
confidence and self-respect left him. Nevertheless, it 
was not till the last that he was convinced that his 
life as well as his ill-gotten gains would be taken from 
him, and then he became a despicable figure, entreat- 
ing mercy, and eagerly seeking to incriminate others 
in the hopes of saving his own wretched life thereby. 

^ There were plenty of others as guilty as Suess — 
nay, more so, for they were natives of Wiirtemberg, and 
he an alien in blood and religion. But these others 
had relations and friends to intercede for them, and 
all felt that Suess was the man to be made a scape- 
goat of, because he was friendless. 

,The mode of his execution was barbarous. His 
trial had been protracted for eleven months ; at 
length, on February 4, 1738, he was led forth to 
execution — to be hung in an iron cage. This cage 
had been made in 1596, and stood eight feet high, and 
was four feet in diameter. It was composed of seven- 
teen bars and fourteen cross-bars, and was circular. 
The gallows was thirty-five feet high. The wretched 



SUESS OPPENHEIM. 293 

man was first strangled in the cage, hung up in it 
like a dead bird, and then the cage with him in it was 
hoisted up to the full height of the gallows-tree. His 
wealth was confiscated. 

/\ Hallwachs and the other rascals who had been con- 
federated with him in plundering their country were 
banished, but were allowed to depart with all their 
plunder. 

Remchingen also escaped ; when arrested, he man- 
aged to get rid of all compromising papers, which 
were given by him to a chimney-sweep sent to him 
down the chimney by some of the agents of the Bishop 
of Wurzburg. 

Such is the tragic story of the life of Suess Oppen- 
heim, a man of no ordinaryabilities,remarkable shrewd- 
ness, but without a spark of principle. But the chief 
tragedy is to be found in the deterioration of the 
character of Duke Charles Alexander, who, as Austrian 
field-marshal and governor of Servia, had been the 
soul of honour, generous and beloved ; who entered 
on his duchy not only promising good government, 
but heartily desiring to rule well for his people's good ; 
and who in less than four years had forfeited the love 
and respect of his subjects, and died meditating an 
act which would have branded him as perjured — died 
without having executed one of his good purposes, 
and so hated by the people who had cheered him on 
his entry into the capital, that, by general consent, 
the mode of his death was not too curiously and 
closely inquired into. 



33natiu6 jfessler. 

On December 15th, 1839, in his eighty-fourth year, 
died Ignatius Fessler, Lutheran Bishop, at St. Peters- 
burg, a man who had gone through several phases of 
religious belief and unbelief, a Hungarian by birth, a 
Roman Catholic by education, a Capuchin friar, then 
a deist, almost, if not quite, an atheist, professor of 
Oriental languages in the university of Lemberg, 
finally Lutheran Bishop in Finland. 

He was principally remarkable as having been 
largely instrumental in producing one of the most 
salutary reforms of the Emperor Joseph II. 

His autobiography published by him in 1824, when 
he was seventy years old, affords a curious picture of 
the way in which Joseph carried out those reforms, 
and enables us to see how it was that they roused so 
much opposition, and in so many cases failed to effect 
the good that was designed. 

Fessler, in his autobiography, paints himself in as 
bright colours as he can lay on, but it is impossible 
not to see that he was a man of little principle, selfish 
and heartless. 

The autobiography is so curious, and the experi- 
ences of Fessler so varied, the times in which he lived 
so eventful, and the book itself so little known, that 
a short account of his career may perhaps interest, 
and must be new to the generality of readers. 



IGNATIUS FESSLER. 295 

/^Ignatius Fessler was the son of parents in a humble 
walk of life resident in Hungary, but Germans by ex- 
traction. Ignatius was born in the year 1754, and as 
the first child, was dedicated by his mother to God. 
It was usual at that time for such children to be 
dressed in ecclesiastical habits. Ignatius as soon as 
he could walk was invested in a black cassock. His 
earliest reading was in the lives of the saints and 
martyrs, but at his first Communion his mother gave 
him a Bible. That book and Thomas a Kempis were her 
only literature. Long-continued prayer, daily reading 
of religious books, and no others, moulded the open- 
ing mind of her child. Exactly the same process 
goes on in countless peasant houses in Catholic 
Austria and Germany and Switzerland at the present 
day. No such education, no such walling off of the 
mind from secular influences is possible in England 
or France. The first enthusiasm of the child was to 
become a saint, his highest ambition to be a hermit 
or a martyr. At the age of seven he was given to 
be instructed by a Jesuit father, and was shortly after 
admitted to communion. At the age of nine Ignatius 
could read and speak Latin, and then he read with 
avidity Cardinal Bona's Manductio ad Coelum. His 
education was in the hands of the Carmelites at Raab. 
Dr. Fessler records his affectionate remembrance of 
his master, Father Raphael. Ignatius lounged, and 
was lazy. '^Boy ! " said the Father, " have done 
with lounging or you will live to be no good, but the 
laughing stock of old women. Look at me aged 
seventy, full of life and vigour, that comes of not 
being a lounger when a boy." From the Carmelite 



296 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

school Ignatius passed into that of the Jesuits. His 
advance was rapid ; but his reading was still in 
Mystical Theology and his aim the attainment of the 
contemplative, ecstatic life of devotion. So he 
reached his seventeenth year. 

Then his mother took him to Buda, to visit his 
uncle who was lecturer on Philosophy in the Capuchin 
Convent. The boy declared his desire to become a 
Franciscan. His mother and uncle gave their ready 
consent, and he entered on his noviciate, under the 
name of Francis Innocent. "The name Innocent 
became me well— really, at that time, I did not know 
the difference between the sexes." 
i r In 1774, when aged twenty, he took the oaths con- 
stituting him a friar. All the fathers in the convent 
approved, except one old man, Peregrinus, who re- 
monstrated gravely, declaring that he foresaw that 
Fessler would bring trouble on the fraternity. Father 
Peregrinus was right, Fessler was one to whom the 
life and rules and aim of the Order could never be 
congenial. He had an eager, hungry mind, an in- 
satiable craving for knowledge, and a passion for 
books. The Capuchins were, and still are, recruited 1 
from the lowest of the people, ignorant peasants with j 
a traditional contempt for learning, and their teachers' 
embued with the shallowest smattering of knowledge./ 
Fessler, being devoid of means, could not enter one of 
the cultured Orders, the Benedictines or the Jesuits. 
Moreover, the Franciscan is, by his vow, without 
property, he must live by begging, a rule fatal to self- 
respect, and fostering idleness. S. Francis, the 
founder, was a scion of a mercantile class, and the 



IGNATIUS FESSLER. 297 

beggary which he imposed on his Order, was due to 
his revolt against the money-greed of his class. But 
it has been a fruitful source of mischief. It deters 
men with any sense of personal dignity from entering 
the Order, and it invites into it the idle and the 
ignorant. The Franciscan Order has been a fruitful 
nursery of heresies, schisms and scandals. Now old 
Father Peregrinus had sufficient insight into human 
nature to see and judge that a man of pride, intellec- 
tual power, and culture of mind, would be as a fish on 
dry land in the Capuchin fraternity. He was not 
listened to. Fessler was too young to know himself, 
and the fathers too eager to secure a man of promise 
and ability. 

\The guardian, Coelestine, an amiable man, took a 
liking to me. He taught me to play chess, and he 
played more readily with me than with any of the 
rest, which, not a little, puffed up my self-esteem. 
The librarian, Leonidas, was .an old, learned, obliging 
man, dearly loving his flowers. I fetched the water 
for him to his flower-beds, and he showed me his 
gratitude by letting me have the run of the library." 

The library was not extensive, the books nearly all 
theological, and the volume which Fessler was most 
attracted by was Barbanson's "Ways of Divine Love." 
\In 1775, Fessler made the acquaintance of a Cal- 
vinist Baron, who lent him Fleury's " Ecclesiastical 
History." This opened the young man's eyes to the 
fact that the Church was not perfect, that the world 
outside the Church was not utterly graceless. He 
read his New Testament over seven times in that 
year. Then his Calvinist friend lent him Muratori's 



298 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

" Treatise on the Mystical Devotions of the Monks." 
His confidence was shaken. He no longer saw in the 
Church the ideal of purity and perfect infallibility ; he 
saw that Mystical Theology was a geography of cloud 
castles. What profit was there in it ? To what end 
did the friars live ? To grow cabbages, make snuff- 
boxes, cardboard cases, which they painted — these 
were their practical labours ; the rest of their time was 
spent in prayer and meditation. 

Then the young friar got hold of Hofmann-Wal- 
dau's poems, and the sensuousness of their pictures 
inflamed his imagination at the very time when re- 
ligious ecstasy ceased to attract him. 

What the result might have been, Fessler says, he 
trembles to think, had he not been fortified by Seneca. 
It is curious to note, and characteristic of the man, 
that he was saved from demoralisation, not by the 
New Testament, which did not touch his heart, but 
by Seneca's moral axioms, which convinced his reason. 
The Franciscans are allowed great liberty. They run 
over the country collecting alms, they visit whom they 
will, and to a man without principle, such liberty 
offers dangerous occasions. 

\ Fessler now resolved to leave an Order which was 
odious to him. " Somewhat tranquillized by Seneca, 
I now determined to shake myself loose from the 
trammels of the cloister, without causing scandal. The 
most easy way to do this was for me to take Orders, 
and get a cure of souls or a chaplaincy to a nobleman." 
He had no vocation for the ministry ; he looked to it 
merely as a means of escape from uncongenial sur- 
roundings. On signifying his desire to become a 



IGNATIUS FESSLER. 299 

priest, he was transferred to Gross Wardein, there to 
pass the requisite course of studies. At Wardein he 
gained the favour of the bishop and some of the 
canons, who lent him books on the ecclesiastical and 
political history of his native land. He also made 
acquaintance with some families in the town, a lady 
with two daughters, with the elder of whom he fell in 
love. He had, however, sufficient decency not to de- 
clare his passion. It was otherwise with a young 
Calvinist tailor's widow, Sophie ; she replied to his 
declaration very sensibly by a letter, which, he de- 
clares, produced a lasting effect upon him. 
V In 1776 he was removed to Schwachat to go through 
.a course of Moral Theology. His disgust at his en- 
forced studies, which he regarded as the thrashing of 
empty husks, increased. He was angry at his removal 
from the friends he had made at Wardein. Vexation, 
irritation, doubt, threw him into a fever, and he was 
transferred to the convent in the suburbs of Vienna, 
where he could be under better medical care. The 
physician who attended him soon saw that his patient's 
malady was mental. Fessler opened his heart to him, 
and begged for the loan of books more feeding to the 
brain than the mystical rubbish in the convent library. 
The doctor advised him to visit him, when discharged 
as cured from the convent infirmary, instead of at 
•once returning to Schwachat. This he did, and the 
doctor introduced him to two men of eminence and 
influence, Von Eybel and the prelate Rautenstrauch, 
-a Benedictine abbot, the director of the Theological 
Faculties in the Austrian Monarchy. This latter 
promised Fessler to assist him in his studies, and 



300 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

urged him to study Greek and Hebrew, also to widen 
the circle of his reading, to make acquaintance with 
law, history, with natural science and geography, 
and undertook to provide him with the requisite 
books. 

| On his return to Schwachat, Fessler appealed to 
the Provincial against his Master of Studies whom 
he pronounced to be an incompetent pedant. At his 
request he was moved to Wiener-Neustadt. There 
he found the lecturer on Ecclesiastical Studies as 
superficial as the man from whom he had escaped. 
This man did not object to Fessler pursuing his 
Greek and Hebrew studies, nor to his taking from 
the library what books he liked. 

\ The young candidate now borrowed and devoured 
deistical works, Hobbes, Tindal, Edelmann, and the 
Wolfenbuttel Fragments. He had to be careful not 
to let these books be seen, accordingly he hid them 
under the floor in the choir. After midnight, when 
matins had been sung, instead of returning to bed 
with the rest, he remained, on the plea of devotion, in 
the church, seated on the altar steps, reading deistical 
works by the light of the sanctuary lamp, which he 
pulled down to a proper level. He now completely 
lost his faith, not in Christianity only, but in natural 
religion as well. Nevertheless, he did not desist from 
his purpose of seeking orders. He was ordained 
deacon in 1778, and priest in 1779. '/On the Sunday 
after Corpus Christi, I celebrated without faith, with- 
out unction, my first mass, in the presence of my 
mother, her brother, and the rest of my family. They 
all received the communion from my hand, bathed in 



IGNATIUS FESSLER. 30 [ 

tears of emotion. I, who administered to them, was 
frozen in unbelief." 

j^The cure of souls he desired was not given him, no 
chaplaincy was offered him. His prospect of escape 
seemed no better than before. He became very im- 
patient, and made himself troublesome in his convent. 
As might have been suspected, he became restive 
under the priestly obligations, as he had been under 
the monastic rule. It is curious that, late in life, 
when Fessler wrote his memoirs, he showed himself 
blind to the unvvorthiness of his conduct in taking on 
him the most sacred responsibilities to God and the 
Church, when he disbelieved in both. He is, however, 
careful to assure us that though without faith in his 
functions, he executed them punctually, hearing con- 
fessions, preaching and saying mass. But his conduct 
is so odious, his after callousness so conspicuous, that 
it is difficult to feel the smallest conviction of his con- 
scientiousness at any time of his life. 
N As he made himself disagreeable to his superiors 
at Neustadt, he was transferred to Modling. There 
he made acquaintance with a Herr Von Molinari and 
was much at his house, where he met a young 
Countess Louise. '\I cannot describe her stately 
form, her arching brows, the expression of her large 
blue eyes, the delicacy of her mouth, the music of her 
tones, the exquisite harmony that exists in all her 
movements, and what affects me more than all — she 
speaks Latin easily, and only reads serious books." 
So wrote Fessler in a letter at the time. He read 
Ovid's Metamorphoses with her in the morning, and 
walked with her in the evening. When, at the end 



3 02 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

of October, the family went to Vienna, " the absence 
of that noble soul," he wrote, " filled me with 
the most poignant grief." The Molinari family were 
bitten with Jansenism, and hoped to bring the young 
Capuchin to their views. Next year, in the spring of 
1 78 1, they returned to Modling. 

\" This year passed like the former ; in the convent 
I was a model of obedience, in the school a master 
of scholastic theology : in Molinari's family a humble 
disciple of Jansen, in the morning a worshipper of the 
muse of Louise, in the evening an agreeable social 
companion," — in heart — an unbeliever in Christian- 
ity. 

\ A letter written to an uncle on March 12th, 1782, 
must be quoted verbatim, containing as it does a 
startling discovery, which gave him the opportunity 
so long desired, of breaking with the Order : — 

" Since the 23rd February, I sing without inter- 
mission after David, in my inmost heart, ' Praise and 
Glory be to God, who has delivered my enemies into 
my hand ! ' Listen to the wonderful way in which this 
has happened. On the night of the 23rd to 24th of 
February, after eleven o'clock, I was roused from sleep 
by a lay-brother. ' Take your crucifix/ said he ' and 
follow me.' 

" ' Whither ? ' I asked, panic struck. 

" ' Whither I am about to lead you.' 

" ' What am I to do ? ' 

" ' I will tell you, when you are on the spot' 

" ' Without knowing whither I go, and for what pur- 
pose, go I will not.' 

" ' The Guardian has given the order ; by virtue of 



IGNATIUS FESSLER. 303 

holy obedience you are bound to follow whither I 
lead.' 

\ " As soon as holy obedience is involved, no resist- 
ance can be offered. Full of terror, I took my crucifix 
and followed the lay-brother, who went before with a 
dark lantern. Passing the cell of one of my fellow 
scholars, I slipped in, shook him out of sleep, and 
whispered in Latin twice in his ear, ' I am carried off, 
God knows whither. If I do not appear to-morrow, 
communicate with Rautenstrauch.' 
V" Our way led through the kitchen, and beyond 
it through a couple of chambers ; on opening the last, 
the brother said, ' Seven steps down.' My heart con- 
tracted, I thought I was doomed to see the last of 
day-light. We entered a narrow passage, in which I 
saw, half way down it, on the right, a little altar, on 
the left some doors fastened with padlocks. My 
guide unlocked one of these, and said, ' Here is a dying 
man, Brother Nicomede, a Hungarian, who knows 
little German, give him your spiritual assistance. I 
will wait here. When he is dead, call me.' 

" Before me lay an old man on his pallet, in a worn- 
out habit, on a straw palliasse, under a blanket; his 
hood covered his grey head, a snow-white beard 
reached to his girdle. Beside the bedstead was an 
old straw-covered chair, a dirty table, on which was a 
lamp burning. I spoke a few words to the dying 
man, who had almost lost his speech ; he gave me a 
sign that he understood me. There was no possibility 
of a confession. I spoke to him about love to God, 
contrition for sin, and hope in the mercy of heaven ; 
and when he squeezed my hand in token of inward 



304 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

emotion, I pronounced over him the General Abso- 
lution. The rest of the while I was with him, I 
uttered slowly, and at intervals, words of comfort and 
hope of eternal blessedness. About three o'clock, 
after a death agony of a quarter-of-an-hour, he had 
passed out of the reach of trouble. 

" Before I called the lay-brother, I looked round 
the prison, and then swore over the corpse to inform 
the Emperor of these horrors. Then I summoned 
the lay-brother, and said, coldly, ' Brother Nicomede 
is gone.' 

" ' A good thing for him, too,' answered my guide, 
in a tone equally indifferent. 

" ' How long has he been here?' 

" c Two and fifty years.' 

" ' He has been severely punished for his fault' 

" ' Yes, yes. He has never been ill before. He had 
a stroke yesterday, when I brought him his meal.' 

" ' What is the altar for in the passage ? ' 

" ' One of the fathers says mass there on all festivals 
for the lions, and communicates them. Do you see, 
there is a little window in each of the doors, which is 
then opened, and through it the lions make their con- 
fession, hear mass, and receive communion.' 

" ' Have you many lions here ? ' 

" ' Four, two priests and two lay-brothers to be 
attended on.' 

" ' How long have they been here ? ' 

" ' One for fifty, another for forty-two, the third for 
fifteen, and the last for nine years.' 

" ' Why are they here ? ' 

" ' I don't know.' 



IGNATIUS FESSLER. 305 

" ' Why are they called lions ? ' 

" c Because I am called the lion-ward.' 

" I deemed it expedient to ask no more questions. 
I got the lion-ward to light me to my cell, and there 
in calmness considered what to do. 

1" Next day, or rather, that same day, Feb. 24th, I 
wrote in full all that had occurred, in a letter addressed 
to the Emperor, with my signature attached. Shortly 
after my arrival in Vienna I had made the acquaint- 
ance of a Bohemian secular student named Bokorny, 
a trusty man. On the morning of Feb. 25th, I made 
him swear to give my letter to the Emperor, and keep 
silence as to my proceeding. 

"At 8 o'clock he was with my letter in the Couriers' 
lobby of the palace, where there is usually a crowd of 
persons with petitions awaiting the Emperor. Joseph 
took my paper from my messenger, glanced hastily 
at it, put it apart from the rest of the petitions, and 
let my messenger go, after he had cautioned him 
most seriously to hold his tongue. 

" The blow is fallen ; what will be the result — 
whether anything will come of it, I do not yet know.", 

For many months no notice was taken of the letter. 
It was not possible for the Emperor to take action at 
once, for a few days later Pius VI. arrived in Vienna 
on a visit to Joseph. 

\ Joseph II. was an enthusiastic reformer ; he had 
he liveliest regard for Frederick the Great, and tried 
to copy him, but, as Frederick said, Joseph always 
began where he ought to leave off. He had no sooner 
become Emperor (1780) than he began a multitude 
of reforms, with headlong impetuosity. He supposed 



3o5 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

that every abuse was to be rooted up by an exercise 
of despotic power, and that his subjects would hail 
freedom and enlightenment with enthusiasm. Re- 
gardless of the power of hereditary association, he 
arbitrarily upset existing institutions, in the con- 
viction that he was promoting the welfare of his 
subjects. He emancipated the Jews, and proclaimed 
liberty of worship to all religious bodies except the 
Deists, whom he condemned to receive five-and-twenty 
strokes of the cane. He abolished the use of torture, 
and reorganised the courts of justice. 

The Pope, alarmed at the reforming spirit of Joseph, 
and the innovations he was introducing into the 
management of the Church, crossed the Alps with 
the hope that in a personal interview he might 
moderate the Emperor's zeal. He arrived only a few 
days after Joseph had received the letter of Ignatius 
Fessler, which was calculated to spur him to enact 
still more sweeping reforms, and to steel his heart 
against the papal blandishments. Nothing could 
have come to his hands more opportunely. 

In Vienna, in St. Stephen's, the Pope held a ponti- 
fical mass. The Emperor did not honour it by his 
presence. By order of Joseph, the back door of the 
papal lodging was walled up, that Pius might receive 
no visitors unknown to the Emperor, and guards were 
placed at the entrance, to scrutinize those who sought 
the presence of the Pope. Joseph lost dignity by 
studied discourtesy ; and Kaunitz, his minister, was 
allowed to be insulting. The latter received the Pope 
when he visited him, in his dressing-gown, and in- 
stead of kissing his hand, shook it heartily. Pius, 



IGNATIUS FESSLER. 307 

after spending five weeks in Vienna without affecting 
anything, was constrained to depart. 
\ Fessler saw him thrice, once, when the Pope said 
mass in the Capuchin Church, he stood only three 
paces from him. " Never did faith and unbelief, 
Jansenism and Deism, struggle for the mastery in me 
more furiously than then ; tears flowed from my eyes, 
excited by my emotion, and at the end of the mass, I 
felt convinced that I had seen either a man as full of 
the burning love of God as a seraph, or the most ac- 
complished actor in the world." Of the sincerity and 
piety of Pius VI. there can be no question. He was 
a good man, but not an able man. " At the conclu- 
sion he turned to us young priests, asked of each his 
name, length of time in the Order, and priesthood, 
about our studies, and exhorted us, in a fatherly tone, 
to be stout stones in the wall of the house of Israel, 
in times of trouble present and to come." 
v Before Pius departed, he gave his blessing to the 
people from the balcony of the Jesuit Church. " The 
Pope was seated on a throne under a gold-embroidered 
canopy. Fifty thousand persons must have been 
assembled below. Windows were full of heads, every 
roof crowded. The Pope wore his triple-crowned 
tiara, and was attended by three cardinals and two 
bishops in full pontificals. He intoned the form of 
absolution, in far-reaching voice, which was taken up 
by the court choir of four hundred voices. When this 
was done, Pius rose from his throne, the tiara was re- 
moved from his head, he stepped forward, raised eyes 
and arms to heaven, and in a pure ecstasy of devotion 
poured forth a fervent prayer. Only sighs and sobs 



308 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

broke occasionally the perfect silence which reigned 
among the vast throng of kneeling persons in the 
great square. The Pope seemed rather to be raised 
in ecstasy from his feet, than to stand. The prayer 
lasted long, and the bishops put their hands to stay 
up his arms ; it was like Moses on the mountain top, 
with the rod of God in his hand, supported by Aaron 
and Hur, as he prayed for his people striving below 
with Amalek. At last this second Moses let his arms 
fall, he raised his right hand, and blessed the people 
in the name of the Triune God. At the Amen, the 
cannon of the Freiung boomed, and were answered 
by all the artillery on the fortifications of the city." 

\The Pope was gone, and still no notice taken of 
the petition. Molinari spoke to Fessler, who was 
very hot about reform, and had drawn up a scheme 
for the readjustment of the Church in the Empire, 
which he sent to some of the ministers of the Emperor. 
" My friend," said Molinari, " to pull down and to re- 
build, to destroy and to re-create, are serious matters, 
only to be taken in hand by one who has an earnest 
vocation, and not to be made a means for self-seeking." 

Fessler admits that there was truth in the reproach, 
he was desirous of pushing himself into notice, and 
he cared for the matter of " the lions," only because 
he thought they would serve his selfish purpose. 
Joseph now issued an order that no member of a 
monastic order was to be admitted to a benefice who 
had not passed an examination before the teachers 
of the Seminaries. The superiors of the Capuchins 
forbade their candidates going into these examina- 
tions. Fessler stirred up revolt, and he and some 



IGNATIUS FESSLER. 309 

others, acting under his advice, demanded to be ad- 
mitted to examination. His superior then informed 
him that he was not intended by the Order to take a 
cure of souls, he was about to be appointed lecturer 
on Philosophy in one of the convents in Hungary. 
In order to prevent his removal, and to force the 
Order to an open rupture with him, Fessler had 
recourse to a most unseemly and ungenerous act. 
Whilst in Vienna, he had made the acquaintance of 
an unmarried lady, the Baroness E. He had assisted 
her in her studies, giving her instructions usually by 
letter. His acquaintance, Von Eybel, had written a 
book or tract, which had made a great stir, entitled, 
" Who is the Pope ? " Fessler wrote another, entitled, 
" Who is the Emperor ? " He sent a copy to the 
publisher, but retained the original MS. Fessler 
now wrote under a feigned name, and in a disguised 
hand, a letter to Father Maximus, guardian of the 
convent, charging himself with carrying on a guilty 
correspondence with the Baroness E., and with the 
composition of an inflammatory and anti-religious 
pamphlet, " Who is the Emperor ? " Maximus at 
once visited the Baroness, and showed her the letter. 
The lady in great indignation produced the entire 
correspondence, and handed the letters to him. 
Maximus put them in the hands of the Lector of the 
convent, who visited Fessler, and asked him if he 
acknowledged the authorship of " these scandalous 
letters." 

" Scandalous, they are not," answered Fessler. 
^_ " Impius, cum in profundum venerit, contemnit" 
roared the friar. " They are not only scandalous, 



310 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

but impious. Look at this letter on platonic love. 
Is that a fit letter for such as you to write to a lady ? " 

\ In consequence of these letters, and the MS. of the 
pamphlet being found upon him, Fessler was de- 
nounced to the Consistorial Court of the Archbishop. 
He was summoned before it at the beginning of 
August, when he was forced to admit he had been 
wont to kiss the lady to whom he wrote on platonic 
love, and the Consistory suspended him from the 
exercise of his priestly functions for a month. 

\ " I and the Lector returned to the convent silent, 
as if strangers. When we arrived, the friars were at 
table. I do not know how I got to my place ; but 
after I had drunk my goblet of wine, all was clearer 
about me. I seemed to hear the voice of Horace 
calling to me from heaven, Perfer et obdura ! and in 
a moment my self-respect revived, and I looked with 
scorn on the seventy friars hungrily eating their 
dinner." 

\ Of his own despicable conduct, that he had richly 
deserved his punishment, Fessler never seems to have 
arrived at the perception. He was, indeed, a very 
pitiful creature, arousing disgust and contempt in a 
well-ordered mind ; and his Memoirs only deserve 
notice because of the curious insight they afford into 
the inner life of convents, and because he was the 
means of bringing great scandals to light, and in 
assisting Joseph II. in his work of reform. 
\ At the beginning of September, 1782, Fessler was 
the means of bringing a fresh scandal before the eyes 
of the Emperor. During the preceding year, a 
saddler in Schwachat had lost his wife, and was left, 



IGNA TIUS FESSL ER. 3 * I 

not only a widower, but childless. His niece now 
kept house for him, and was much afraid lest her 
uncle should marry again, and that thus she should not 
become his heir. She consulted a Capuchin, Father 
Brictius. Fessler had been in the Schwachat convent, 
and knew the man. Soon after, the niece assured her 
uncle that the ghost of her aunt had appeared to her, 
and told her she was suffering in Purgatory. For her 
release, she must have ten masses said, and some 
wax candles burnt. The saddler was content to have 
his old woman " laid " at this price. But, after the 
tenth mass, the niece declared she had seen her aunt 
again, and that the spirit had appeared to her in the 
presence of Father Brictius, and told her, that what 
troubled her most of all was the suspicion she was 
under, that her husband purposed marrying again ; 
and she assured him, that were he so to do, he would 
lose his soul, in token whereof, she laid her hand on 
the cover of the niece's prayer-book, and left the im- 
pression burnt into it. 

\ Father Brictius carried the scorched book all round 
the neighbourhood, the marks of thumb and five 
fingers were clearly to be seen, burnt into the wooden 
cover. Great was the excitement, and on all sides 
masses for souls .were in demand. Some foolish 
pastors even preached on the marvel. 
\ It happened that a Viennese boy was apprenticed 
to a tinker at Schwachat ; and the boy came home 
every Saturday evening, to spend the day with his 
parents, at Vienna. He generally brought Fessler 
some little presents or messages from his friends at 
Schwachat. One day, the boy complained to Fessler 



312 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

that he had been severely beaten by his master. On 
being asked the reason, he replied, that he had been 
engaged with the tinker making an iron hand, and 
that he had spoiled it. Shortly after this, the rumour 
of the miraculous hand laid on the prayer-book, 
reached the convent. Fessler put the circumstances 
together, and suspected he was on the track of a 
fraud. He went at once to one of the ministers of 
the Emperor, and told him what he knew. 

v An imperial commission was issued, the tinker, the 
saddler's niece, and Father Brictius, were arrested, 
cross-questioned, and finally, confessed the trick. The 
tinker was sent to prison for some months, the woman, 
for some weeks, and the Franciscan was first im- 
prisoned, and then banished the country. An account 
of the fraud was issued, by Government authority, and 
every parish priest was ordered to read it to his 
parishioners from the pulpit. 

The Capuchins at Vienna, after this, were more 
impatient than before to send Fessler to Hungary, 
and he was forced to appeal to the Emperor to pre- 
vent his removal. 

N Suddenly, quite unexpectedly, in the beginning of 
October — seven months after Fessler had sent the 
Emperor an account of the prison in the convent, 
and when he despaired of notice being taken of it — 
some imperial commissioners visited the convent and 
demanded in the name of the Emperor to be shown 
all over it. At the head of the Commission was 
Hagelin, to whom Fessler had told his suspicions 
about the iron hand. 
VThe commissioners visited all the cells, and the 



IGNA TIUS FESSLER. 3 1 3 

infirmary, then asked the Guardian thrice on hi.s 
honour, and in the name of the Emperor, whether 
there was a prison in the convent. Thrice the 
Guardian replied that there was not. " Let us now 
visit the kitchen," said Hagelin, and in spite of the 
protests and excuses of the Guardian, he insisted on 
being taken there. Beyond the kitchen was the 
wash-house. The commissioners went further, and 
found a small locked door. They insisted on its 
being opened. Then the Guardian turned pale and 
nearly fainted. The door was thrown open, the cells 

' were unlocked, and the lay brothers ordered to bring 
the prisoners into the refectory. There the commis- 
sioners remained alone with the unfortunates to take 
down their depositions. It was found that three, 

r Fathers Florentine, and Paternus, and the lay brother, 
Nemesian, were out of their minds. The " lion-ward " 
was summoned to answer for them. From "his ac- 
count, it transpired that Nemesian had gone out of 
his mind through religious enthusiasm ; he was aged 
seventy-one, and had been fifty years in the dungeon. 
Father Florentine was aged seventy -three, he had 
been in confinement for forty-two years for boxing the 
Guardian's ears in a fit of temper. Father Paternus was 
locked up because he used to leave his convent without 
permission, and when rebuked would not give up his 
independent conduct. He had been fifteen years in 
prison. His confinement had bereft him of his senses. 
As the remaining two were in full possession of their 
faculties, the "lion-ward " was now dismissed. The lay 
brother Barnabas said he had been a shopkeeper's 
servant in Vienna, he had fallen in love with his 



314 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

master's daughter. As his master refused to have 
him as his son-in-law, out of despair he had gone into 
the Capuchin Order. During his noviciate, the 
master died ; the master of the novices stopped the 
letter informing him of this, and he took the vows, 
to discover, when too late, that the girl loved him, and 
was ready to take him. In his mad rage, he flung 
his rosary at the feet of the Guardian, declaring he 
would never confess to, or receive the communion 
from the hands of a father of this accursed Order. 
He had been nine years in prison, and was thirty- 
eight years old. 

Father Thuribius had been caught reading Wie- 
land, Gellert, Rabener, &c. ; they had been taken 
from him. He got hold of other copies, they were 
taken away a second time. A third time he procured 
them, and when discovered, fought with his fists for 
their retention. He had been repeatedly given the 
cat o' nine tails, and had been locked up five months 
and ten days. His age was twenty-eight. 
v The commissioners at once suspended the Provin- 
cial and the Guardian till further notice, and the five 
unfortunates were handed over to the care of the 
Brothers of Charity. 

J That same day, throughout the entire monarchy, 
every monastery and nunnery was visited by imperial 
commissioners. 

At the same time, the Emperor Joseph issued an 
order that Fessler was on no account to be allowed 
to leave Vienna, and that he took him under his im- 
perial protection against all the devices of his mon- 
astic enemies. 



IGNA TIUS FESSLER. 3 1 5 

" Now came the sentence on the Guardian and the 
Provincial from the Emperor. They were more 
severely punished than perhaps they really deserved. 
I felt for their sufferings more keenly, because I was 
well aware that I had been moved to report against 
them by any other motive rather than humanity ; 
and even the consequences of my revelation, the set- 
ting at liberty of a not inconsiderable number of un- 
fortunate monks and nuns throughout the Austrian 
Empire, could not set my conscience at rest. Only 
the orders made by the Emperor rendering it impos- 
sible to repeat such abuses, brought me any satisfac- 
tion. The monastic prisons were everywhere de- 
stroyed. Transgression of rules was henceforth to be 
punished only by short periods of seclusion, and cases 
of insanity were to be sent to the Brothers of Charity, 
who managed the asylums." 

\If Joseph II. had but possessed commonsense as 
well as enthusiasm, he would have left his mark 
deeper on his country than he did. 

Fessler laid before him the schedule of studies in 
the Franciscan Convents. Joseph then issued an 
order (6th April, 1782], absolutely prohibiting the 
course of studies in the cloisters. When Fessler saw 
that the Guardian of his convent was transgressing 
the decree, he appealed against him to the Emperor, 
and had him dismissed. Next year Joseph required 
all the students of the Capuchin Order to enter the 
seminaries, and pass thence through the Universities. 
But, unfortunately, Joseph had taken a step to alien- 
ate from him the bishops and secular clergy, as well as 
the monks and friars. He arbitrarily closed all the 



^ 



3i6 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

diocesan seminaries, and created seminaries of his 
own for the candidates for Orders, to which he ap- 
pointed the professors, thus entirely removing the 
education of the clergy from the hands of the Church. 
When the Bishop of Goritz expressed his dissatisfac- 
tion, Joseph suppressed his see and banished him. 
The professors he appointed to the universities, to 
the chairs which were attended by candidates for 
Orders, were in many cases free-thinkers and 
rationalists. The professor of Biblical Exegesis at 
Vienna was an ex-Jesuit, Monsperger, " His religious 
system," says Fessler, who attended his course, " was 
simply this, — a wise enjoyment of life, submission to 
the inevitable, and prudence of conduct. That was 
all. He had no other idea of Church than a reciprocal 
bond of rights and duties. In his lectures he whittled 
all the supernatural out of the Old Testament, and 
taught his pupils to regard the book as a collection 
of myths, romance, and contradictions. His lectures 
brought me back from my trifling with Jansenism to 
the point I had been at four years before under the 
teaching of Hobbes, Tindal, and the Wolfenbtittel 
Fragments. I resolved to doubt everything super- 
natural and divine, without actually denying such 
thing. — Strange ! I resolved to disbelieve, when I 
never had believed." 

*^On Feb. 6th, 1784, he received the Emperor's 
appointment to the professorships of Biblical Exegesis 
and Oriental languages in the University of Lemberg. 
On the 20th Feb., on the eve of starting for Lemberg, 
^for ever to cast off the hated habit of S. Francis,, 
and to shake off, as much as he dare, the 



IGNATIUS FESSLER. 317 

trammels of the priesthood, Fessler was in his cell 
at midnight, counting the money he had received for 
his journey. " To the right of me, on the table was a 
dagger, given me as a parting present by the court 
secretary, Grossinger. I was thinking of retiring to 
rest, when my cell door was burst open, and in rushed 
Father Sergius, a great meat-knife in his hand, 
shouting, Moriere hazretice I he struck at my breast. 
In an instant I seized my dagger, parried the blow, 
and wounded my assailant in the hand. He let the 
knife fall and ran away. I roused the Guardian, told 
him what had occurred, and advised what was to be 
done. Sergius, armed with two similar knives, had 
locked himself into his cell. At the command of the 
Guardian six lay-brothers burst open the door, and 
beat the knives from his hands with sticks, then 
dragged him off to the punishment-cell, where they 
placed him under watch. Next morning I went with 
the Guardian, as I had advised, to the president of the 
Spiritual Commission, the Baron von Kresel, to inform 
him that Father Sergius had gone raving mad, and 
to ask that he might be committed to the custody of 
the Brothers of Mercy. This was at once granted ; 
and I left the Guardian to instruct the fanatic how 
to comport himself in the hospital as a lunatic, so 
as not to bring his superiors into further difficul- 
ties." 

\ The first acquaintance Fessler made in Lemberg, 
was a renegade Franciscan friar, who had been 
appointed Professor of Physic, " Ke was a man of 
unbounded ambition and avarice, a political fanatic, 
and a complete atheist." Joseph afterwards appointed 



318 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

this man to be mitred abbot of Zazvar. He died on 
the scaffold in 1795, executed for high treason. 
\ The seminarists of the Catholic and of the Uniat 
Churches as well as the pupils from the religious Orders 
were obliged to attend Fessler's lectures. These were 
on the lines of these of Monsperger. Some of the 
clergy in charge of the Seminarists were so uneasy at 
Fessler's teaching that they stood up at his lectures 
and disputed his assertions ; but Fessler boasts that 
after a couple of months he got the young men round 
to his views, and they groaned, hooted and stamped 
down the remonstrants. He published at this time 
two works, Institutiones linguarum orientalium, and a 
Hebrew anthology for the use of the students. In the 
latter he laid down certain canons for the interpret- 
ation of the Old Testament, by means of which every- 
thing miraculous might be explained away. 
\ It was really intolerable that the candidates for 
orders should be forcibly taught to disbelieve everything 
their Church required them to hold. In his inspection 
of the monasteries, in the suppression of many, Joseph 
acted with justice, and the conscience of the people 
approved, but in this matter of the education of the 
clergy he violated the principles of common justice, 
and the consequence was such wide-spread irritation, 
that Joseph for a moment seemed inclined to give 
way. That Joseph knew the rationalism of Fessler is 
certain. The latter gives a conversation he had with 
the Emperor, in which they discussed the " Ruah," 
the Spirit of God, which moved on the face of the 
waters, as said in the first chapter of Genesis. Fessler 
told him that he considered " the expression to be a 



IGNATIUS FESSLER. 



319 



Hebrew superlative, and to mean no more than that a 
violent gale was blowing. Possibly," he added, 
" Moses may have thought of the Schiva in the 
Hindoo Trimurti ; for he was reared in all the wisdom 
of the Egyptians, who were an Ethiopic race, which 
was in turn an Indian colony." Dr. Fessler's Ethno- 
logy was faulty, whatever may be thought of his 
Theology. 

After having given this explanation to the Emperor, 
Fessler boldly asked him for a bishopric — he who 
loathed his priesthood and disbelieved in revealed 
religion ! 

V Joseph did not give him a mitre, but made him 
rofessor of Doctrinal Theology and Catholic Polemics 
as well as of Biblical Exegesis. This did not satisfy 
the ambitious soul of Fessler, he was bent on a mitre. 
He waited with growing impatience. He sent his 
books to Joseph. He did his utmost to force himself 
into his notice. But the desired mitre did not come. 
Fessler complains that scandalous stories circulated 
about him whilst at Lemberg, and these possibly may 
have reached the imperial ears. He asserts, and no 
doubt with perfect truth, that these were unfounded. 
He had made himself bitter enemies, and they would 
not scruple to defame him. He boasts that at Lem- 
berg he contracted no Platonic alliances ; he had no 
attachements de cceur there at all. 

The Emperor seemed to have forgotten him, to 
have cast aside his useful tool. Filled with the bitter- 
ness of defeated ambition, in 1788 he wrote a drama, 
entitled James II., a covert attack on his protector, 
Joseph II., whom he represented as falling away in 



320 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

his enthusiasm for reform, and succumbing to the 
gathering hostility of Obscurantists and Jesuits. 

This was not the case, but Joseph was in trouble 
with his refractory subjects in the Low Countries, who 
would not have his seminaries and professors, who 
subscribed for the support of the ousted teachers, 
and rioted at the introduction of the new professors 
to the University of Louvain. 

The play was put into rehearsal, but the police in- 
terfered, and it was forbidden. Fessler either feared 
or was warned that he was about to be arrested, and he 
escaped over the frontier into Prussian Silesia. Joseph 
CjL died in 1790, broken in spirit by his failures. 

Fessler, after his escape from Austria, became a 
salaried reader and secretary to the Count of Caro- 
lath, whose wife was a princess of Saxe-Meiningen. 

After a while he married a young woman of the 
" middle class ; he seems to have doubted whether they 
would be happy together, after he had proposed, ac- 
cordingly he wrote her a long epistle, in the most 
pedantic and dictorial style, informing her of what 
his requirements were, and warning her to withdraw 
from the contemplated union, if she were not sure she 
would come up to the level of the perfect wife. The 
poor creature no doubt wondered at the marvellous 
love letter, but had no hesitation in saying she would 
do her duty up to her lights. The result was not 
happy. They led together a cat-and-dog life for ten 
f years. She was~aThomely person without intellectual 
parts, and he was essentially a book-worm. He ad- 
mits that he did not shine in society, and leaves it to 
be understood that the loss was on the side of inap- 



IGNA TIUS FESSLER, 32 1 

preciative society, but we can not help suspecting 
that he was opinionated, sour, and uncouth. All 
these qualities were intensified in the narrow circle 
of home. After ten years of misery he divorced 
his wife on the ground of mutual incompatibility. 
For a livelihood he took up Freemasonry, and went 
about founding lodges. There were three rogues at 
that period who worked Freemasonry for their own 
ends, the Darmstadt Court Chaplain, Starck, a Baron 
von Hundt, and a certain Becker, who called himself 
Johnson, and pretended to be a delegate from the 
mysterious, unknown head of the Society in Aber- 
deen. They called themselves Masons of the Strict 
Observance, but were mere swindlers. 

After a while, Freemasonry lost its attractions for 
Fessler, probably it ceased to pay, and then he left 
Breslau, and wandered into Prussia. He wrote a 
novel called " Marcus Aurelius," glorifying that em- 
peror, for whom he entertained great veneration, and 
did other literary work, which brought him in a little 
money. Then he married again, a young, beautiful 
and gifted woman, with a small property. He was 
very happy in his choice, but less happy in the specu- 
lation in which he invested her money and that of 
her sisters. It failed, and they were reduced to ex- 
treme poverty. What became of the sisters we do 
not know. Fessler with his wife and children went 
into Russia, and sponged for some time on the Mora- 
vian Brothers, who treated him with great kindness, 
and lent him money, " Which," he says, in his auto- 
biography, " I have not yet been able to pay back 

altogether." 

x 



322 HISTORIC ODDITIES. 

\ He lost some of his children. Distress, pecuniary- 
embarrassments, and sickness, softened his heart, and 
perhaps with that was combined a perception that if 
he could get a pastorate he would be provided for ; x 
this led to a conversion, which looks very much as if 
it were copied from the famous conversion of St. 
Augustine. It possibly was. to some extent, sincere ; 
he recovered faith in God, and joined the Lutheran 
community. Then he had his case and attainments 
brought under the notice of the Czar, who was, at the 
time, as Fessler probably knew, engaged in a scheme 
for organising the Lutheran bodies in Finland into a 
Church under Episcopal government. He chose 
Fessler to be bishop of Saratow, and had him conse- 
crated by the Swedish bishops, " Who," says Fessler, 
" like the Anglican bishops, have preserved the Apos- 
tolic succession." He makes much of this point, a 
curious instance of the revival in his mind of old ideas 
imbibed in his time of Catholicity. 
\ According to his own account, he was a bishop 
quite on the Apostolic model, and worked very hard 
to bring his diocese into order. His ordination was 
in 1820. In 1833, the Saratow consistory was dis- 
solved, and he retired to St. Petersburg, where he was 
appointed general superintendent of the Lutheran 
community in the capital. He married a third time, 
but says very little of the last wife. He concludes 
with this estimate of his own character, which is 
hardly that at which a reader of his autobiography 
would arrive. "Earnestness and cheerfulness, rapid 

1 JHe had, however, just received a pension from the Czar, 
so that he was relieved from abject poverty. 



IGNATIUS FESSLER. 323 

decision, and unbending determination, manly firm- 
ness and childlike trueheartedness — these are the 
ever recurring fundamental characteristics of my 
nature. Add to these a gentle mysticism, to surround 
the others with colour and unite them in harmony. 
Sometimes it may be that dissonances occur, it may 
be true that occasionally I thunder with powerful 
lungs in my house, as if I were about to wreck and 
shatter everything, but that is called forth only by 
what is wrong. In my inmost being calm, peace, 
and untroubled cheerfulness reign supreme. Discon- 
tent, wrath, venom and gall, have not embittered one 
moment of my life." x 

,^1 « of myself," he says, " I must confess that I have heard 
great and famous preachers, true Bourdaloues, Massillons, Zolli- 
kofers, &c, in Vienna, Carolath, Breslau, Berlin, Dresden, Leipzig, 
Hanover, and have been pleased with the contents, arrangement, 
and delivery of their sermons ; but never once have I felt my heart 
stirred with religious emotion. Onthe contrary, on the 25thMarch, 
1782, when Pius VI. said mass in the Capuchin Church, and on the 
31st March, when he blessed the people, I trembled on the edge 
of conviction and religious faith, and was only held back by my 
inability to distinguish between religion and the Church system. 
Still more now does the Sermon on the Mount move me, and 
for the last 23 years the divine liturgical prayer in John xvii., 
does not fail to stir my very soul." 



THE END. 



S. Cowan <£ Co., Printers, Perth. 



MESSRS. METHUEN'S LIST OF NEW AND 
FORTHCOMING WORKS. 



By the Author of " Donovan," " We Two," cfcc. 

Derrick Vaughan, Novelist. By Edna Lyall. Post 8vo, 
2s. 6d. Twenty-fourth Thousand. 



Our English. Villages : their Story and their Antiquities. 
By P. H. Ditchfield, M.A., F.R.H.S., Rector of Barkham, 
Berks. Post 8vo, 2s. 6d. Illustrated. 



By the Author of " Mehalah," " John Herring," &e. 

Historic Oddities and Strange Events. By S. Baring 
Gould, M.A. First Series. Demy 8vo, 10s. 6d. 

By the same Author. 
Old Country Life. With numerous Illustrations, Initial 
Letters, &c. Cr. Svo. 

By the same Author. 
Yorkshire Oddities. New and Cheaper Edition. (In the 
Press.) 

By the same Author. 
Strange Survivals and Popular Superstitions. (In 
Preparation. ) 

By the same Author. 
Arminell : A Social Romance. In 3 vols. Cr. 8vo. (On 
November 1.) 



Novel by a New Writer. 
Alderdene. By Major Norris Paul. Cr. 8vo. 



Edited by Rev. F. Langbridge. 
Ballads of the Brave : Poems of Chivalry, Enterprise, 
Courage, and Constancy — from the Earliest Times to the 
Present Day. Edited by F. Langbridge. Cr. Svo. 



By T. Raleigh, M.A. 
Irish Politics : An Elementary Sketch. By T. Raleigh, M.A., 
Fellow of All Souls Coll., Oxford. Fcp. 8vo. This book will 
form the first vol. of a popular series on Elementary Politics 
edited by Mr. Raleigh. 



* 



CONGRESS 




JinL 



■n 

fflfiBHA 

8ffl$SfiMfi$ 

H 



HhHm 




III 

HHk 

IHS 

raw! 

«V 

111 
mm 



Pi 
ill 



■ 



iw 



ss« 



QNf 



@$ 



M 
jdbh 
wBBBP 



M$ 






<m 



li 



UKN 



tftN&Hftf 



Wfl& 



Mi 



in 



» 



m 



^fi&$$ 



NHI 



1 



H 



m 






HHi 



■ 



flU 



mm 



r 



mm 



Ota 



1 



W 



mM] 



"mm 



m 



m 



